Harmony's Reprisal
by Lady Liberty
Summary: The aircraft carrier Reprisal visits Sunnydale, and after several sailors go missing, the Navy dispatches JAG officers to investigate. Meanwhile, Harmony is cooking up another plot against Buffy & Co.


Universes:  
  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (early Season 7)  
  
JAG (early 2002-3 season)  
  
Disclaimer:   
  
I don't own the copyrights. I don't claim to. It's just a story.  
  
Summary:  
  
The aircraft carrier U.S.S. Reprisal visits Sunnydale, CA, September 20-29, 2002. Several sailors go missing, at which point the Navy sends in JAG officers to investigate their disappearances. Meanwhile, Harmony cooks up her latest plot against Buffy & Co.  
  
Author's Notes:   
  
Harmony's Reprisal was my first completed chaptered-fic; it's a Buffy/JAG crossover taking place early in the Fall 2002 season of both shows (for Buffy, that's Season 7).  
  
It's also the prelude to my epic-length historical Buffy/Potterverse crossover series, known as "Lady Liberty". For now, that is available exclusively at my personal website, though if I get a good response to Reprisal I may go ahead and post it here...  
  
http://www.geocities.com/starshipnormandy/ladyliberty/index.html  
  
And now, on with the story....  
  
-----------------------------  
  
Harmony's Reprisal  
  
-----------------------------  
  
Harmony's Reprisal  
  
Chapter One: The Flat-Top  
  
----  
  
Thursday Night, 1945 hours (Pacific Time)  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale, CA  
  
----  
  
"Xand, it's your turn." Buffy smirked. "And please, something in town, Will's   
  
threatening to drag us all down to the Museum of Tolerance in L.A. next week."  
  
They'd set aside Saturday afternoons to spend together, just the three of them,   
  
ever since Willow's recent return from England. Giles and Dawn had tagged along   
  
last week, to Buffy's chosen activity - a trip to Stonewall's, a new indoor   
  
rock-climbing warehouse that had just opened near the Bronze. But with Giles in   
  
England and Dawn going to Disneyland with the family across the street, it'd   
  
just be the three of them this weekend.  
  
Xander leafed through the "Currents" section of the newspaper, while Willow was   
  
engrossed in her iBook. "Y'know, Buffy, those who don't study history are doomed   
  
to repeat it. Everyone should have to go to the Museum of Tolerance." Willow'd   
  
been trying to talk them into going to the Holocaust museum in Los Angeles ever   
  
since Xander had gotten his driver's license, but until now, the trip had never   
  
materialized.  
  
Xander spoke up. "That's next week Wills. My turn. And just in time, too, it   
  
looks like." He creased over the paper and tossed it to Buffy. "How about that."  
  
Buffy glanced at it, then up at him like he was insane. "Xand, this is an ad for   
  
penile enlargement surgery..."  
  
"Wrong side. Turn it over."  
  
She obediently did, and saw the profile of a massive... something. With a flat   
  
top on it. "Hmm... free tours. I like free. And it's right here in town... Pier   
  
Thirteen? What is this thing...."  
  
Willow snatched it, without looking up, and propped it against her computer   
  
screen. "U.S.S. Reprisal." she read, pushing a stray strand of red hair behind   
  
her ear. "An active duty U.S. Navy aircraft carrier. Limited number of free   
  
tours available during goodwill visit to Sunnydale. Ten days only... starting   
  
Friday. Reservations required to limit crowds. Well, that makes sense."  
  
Xander shrugged. "Sounds like fun?" Buffy looked a bit iffy on the subject, so   
  
he added, "Men in uniform, Buffy."  
  
"Oooh, count me in. You know what they say about dress whites. Will?"  
  
Willow smiled. "Whatever you two want. I'll tag along." She tossed Xander the ad   
  
and the telephone.  
  
"Hello? Yes, I'd like to make reservations for three for the Reprisal tours...   
  
yes... Saturday afternoon if you can.... yes, this Saturday.... five o'clock   
  
will be fine.... Alexander Harris." He supplied Buffy's phone number - his   
  
machine was on the fritz ever since Dawn had screamed into it last week - and   
  
his apartment address, then hung up. "We're all set. Saturday at five. They said   
  
to wear sneakers; apparently there's ladders."  
  
Wills nodded. "I've got a new pair of Vans I've been planning to break in   
  
anyway."  
  
Buffy looked at her mud-encusted sneaks. "I suppose I can try sponging off some   
  
of the slayage."  
  
----  
  
Friday Morning, 0830 hours (Eastern Time)  
  
JAG HQ  
  
Falls Church, VA  
  
----  
  
"Tiner!"  
  
"Yes, Admiral."  
  
"What's on the situation sheet for today?"  
  
"Well, Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie are wrapping up that dereliction of   
  
duty case at Pearl, Lieutenant Singer's in the office - back from the Seahawk,   
  
and Commander Turner's getting back from the Watertown tomorrow." He checked his   
  
clipboard. "The rest of the staff is working on that bar brawl in Norfolk last   
  
week. We've still got sixteen... no, seventeen sailors up on charges for   
  
assault."  
  
"Anything that looks suspiscious on the books?"  
  
"The Reprisal's doing a port visit in Sunnydale, California." Bud Roberts   
  
offered from the speakerphone.  
  
"Isn't that the town where they all had laryngitis a few years back?" Tiner   
  
asked. "And the high school that exploded the year before that?"  
  
Admiral A.J. Chegwidden stared Yeoman Tiner down. "You and I both know that port   
  
visits, especially in the continental U.S., aren't usually much to worry about."  
  
"There was Mazatlan, sir." Bud echoed through the cheap government phone.  
  
"Well, we'll keep an eye on it. Anything else?"  
  
"Oh... your daughter, Francesca, is on the daytime flight from Milan today; I'm   
  
picking her up at the airport for you at four."  
  
"That's a negative, Tiner. You'll drive me to pick her up."  
  
"But sir, you've got a meeting with SecNav..."  
  
He leaned toward the phone. "Bud, I'm going to have to hang up on you. Hope   
  
you're feeling better now that you're at home."  
  
"Yes, sir." Bud replied, then clicked out to save the Admiral having to hang up   
  
on him. A.J., for his part, dialed up the SecNav's office.  
  
"This is Admiral Chegwidden at JAG. Please inform the SecNav that I'd like to   
  
move up today's appointment if possible."  
  
----  
  
Saturday Afternoon, 1700 hours  
  
Pier 13  
  
Sunnydale Harbor  
  
----  
  
"Rosenberg. R-o-s-e-n-b-e-r-g." Willow spelled out for the Marine guard, who   
  
dutifully recorded her name on the list. "You couldn't just have us fill out   
  
forms?"  
  
"Random selection oral interview. Nine-eleven and all that. Address?"  
  
Willow shrugged. "Sixteen-Thirty Revello Drive, Sunnydale. Ocupation college   
  
student." She added, feeling that that was the next question.   
  
He checked that off, then flipped the page. "Religion?" Willow shrugged, thought   
  
briefly about claiming privacy and the First Amendment, then answered. "Judaism.   
  
Or Wicca. Both, really."  
  
"Sorry, ma'am. It says only one." He seemed indifferent; perhaps they were just   
  
trying to weed out the likely terrorists by asking people if they were Muslim.  
  
"Pick one." Willow sighed. The guard checked something off and went on.  
  
"Are you a U.S. Citizen?"  
  
"Yes, born and raised here in Sunnydale in fact. Next question."  
  
"Have you ever visited or been affiliated a citizen of any country on the   
  
terrorism watch list?"  
  
Willow wondered if Angel had citizenship, where, and if that mattered. But she   
  
decided to leave that out. "Unless Romania, the U.K. or Israel is on the list,   
  
no." Then she remembered Kendra. "Oh, or Jamaica."  
  
"No hits. Next question... have you ever been employed by any government agency,   
  
American or foreign?"  
  
"Nope. Just a student." She'd had quite a few dealings with a secret military   
  
project - she still wasn't sure exactly what branch Riley had been with - but   
  
that didn't count.  
  
"Alright, you can go. Be careful on the ship, Miss Rosenberg, and welcome to   
  
Reprisal."  
  
Actually, Willow thought, I was there a few months ago... but why bother   
  
confusing people?  
  
Buffy bounced up to her as soon as she cleared the security zone. "Wills, ya   
  
passed!"  
  
Xander grinned at the happy vampire slayer. "I told ya Will tests well." He   
  
pointed up the long aluminum stairway that led to the massive aircraft carrier's   
  
hangar deck, the vinyl banner on the siderails emblazoned with the ship's name   
  
in huge blue letters half as tall as Buffy. "Let's go. The guard said they're   
  
organizing tour groups at the top of the stairs."  
  
A couple sailors pushed past, headed for town. "I heard about this club, man...   
  
supposed to have one lethal metal house band. The Dark Knights or somethin'."  
  
Buffy called out behind them, "It's called the Bronze. Downtown."  
  
"Thanks, girl."  
  
----  
  
Saturday, 1845 hours (Hawaiian Time)  
  
Conference Room, Brig  
  
Naval Station Pearl Harbor, Hawaii  
  
----  
  
"Well, that's the offer on the table, take it or leave it." Sarah Mackenzie   
  
smirked.  
  
"Leave it." The Captain shrugged. "I doubt you can find a jury that'll convict   
  
me for dereliction for failing to render honors to the Arizona memorial. Not on   
  
the evidence you've got."  
  
Commander Rabb shook his head. "You'd be surprised, sir. I advise you to take   
  
the deal." But Mac was already packing up her briefcase.  
  
"See you in court then, first thing Monday morning. Sir." She added with   
  
distaste, before hitting the buzzer to summon the guard.  
  
  
  
----  
  
Sunday, 0800 hours  
  
Hangar Deck  
  
U.S.S. Reprisal  
  
----  
  
Lieutenant Thompson uncomfortably shifted his clipboard to the other hand.   
  
"Peters?"  
  
No answer. "Where's Peters?"  
  
Still no answer. Thompson checked him off. "Quincy?"  
  
"Present, sir."  
  
"Good man. Richards?"  
  
No answer. Again. Thompson shook his head and kept going. By the end of the   
  
clipboard he was missing three more crewmen. "Anyone seen Peters, Richards,   
  
Ternate, Valencia or Wilson?"  
  
Chief Sullivan spoke up. "They all took shore leave last night. Said they were   
  
going to some dance club downtown with a metal band. I didn't catch the name."  
  
A passing Marine guard spoke up. "The Bronze." Thompson looked at the Marine,   
  
questioningly. "I saw a civilian girl giving them directions at the bottom of   
  
the gangplank. Right after I finished questioning one of her companions.   
  
Rosenberg.... I don't recall her first name."  
  
"See if you can find this Rosenberg girl. And have the ship and town searched."  
  
"And if we don't find your five missing sailors?"  
  
"I'll call in the big guns."  
  
Sullivan winced. "Not..."  
  
"Yes. JAG."  
  
----  
  
Sunday, 1245 hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"Buffy!" Xander yelled from downstairs. The Slayer, as usual, was sleeping in.  
  
"Coming...." She half-stumbled down the stairs, seeing him standing near the   
  
door, sword in hand. "What is it?"  
  
"There's two Marines at the door."  
  
"Marines? That's new." Buffy chirped, pushing the sword away. "I know better   
  
than to take on the Marines, Xand. Get that out of sight." After he'd quickly   
  
stashed it behind the couch, she opened the door. "Can I help you..."  
  
"First Lieutenant Tyler Kovalczech, U.S. Marine Corps." He checked his   
  
clipboard. "You must be Miss Rosenberg."  
  
Xander laughed, but Buffy silenced him with a glance. "No, I'm not. But you have   
  
the right house." She paused. "But what do the Marines want with Miss   
  
Rosenberg?"  
  
"That's a matter of national security, ma'am."  
  
"Since you're going to have to get past me to talk to her, I think you still   
  
need to answer the question."  
  
Kovalczech tilted his head a moment. "Fair enough. We're investigating a group   
  
of five sailors from the aircraft carrier Reprisal who went ashore last night   
  
and did not return. Sergeant Meathe here," he gestured at his companion, "seemed   
  
to believe that Miss Rosenberg might have some relevant information."  
  
Buffy nodded. "Come in. But only the living room. Xander, go upstairs."  
  
"Dawn still leads with her knights." He said, cryptically, as both Marines took   
  
seats on the couch.  
  
"That's right."  
  
By now, Kovalczech had a pen out. "Who is this Dawn?"  
  
"My sister." Buffy answered. "She's out of town for the weekend."  
  
He considered that, but didn't write anything. "Might I have your name... and   
  
the young man's?"  
  
"Buffy Anne Summers. Alexander Harris."  
  
"And you two..."  
  
"We've been friends since tenth grade. Miss Rosenberg, too." Buffy almost   
  
stopped herself, but continued. "Actually, they've been friends a lot longer. I   
  
moved up here from L.A. between ninth and tenth grades."  
  
"So you're not..."  
  
Buffy shivered. "My god, no!"  
  
"Just trying to be clear, ma'am." He smiled. "You're aware of the Reprisal port   
  
visit?"  
  
"Went on the tour even." Sergeant Meathe nodded, a sudden look of recognition in   
  
his eyes.  
  
"It was you, then."  
  
"Excuse me?" Buffy asked, looking confused.  
  
Meathe explained, "I was the one that did Miss Rosenberg's security screening.   
  
Shortly after that, I saw her with two people, which I guess were you and Mr.   
  
Harris. You gave directions to a group of sailors leaving the ship."  
  
"The Bronze. Yeah, so?" Buffy asked indignantly.  
  
"Those are the missing sailors."  
  
Just then Willow appeared on the stairs. "Missing sailors?"  
  
Buffy summarized. "Five. From the Reprisal. Went to the Bronze and never made it   
  
back to the ship."  
  
Willow stepped down a step more. "Buff... remember Cordy and the chair?"  
  
Xander nodded. "You're right, Wills. And Buff... remember Dru?"  
  
Buffy suddenly looked stricken. "Damn it, why did I ever come to this damned   
  
town?"  
  
The two Marines looked confused. "What's going on?" Lieutenant Kovalczech asked.  
  
Buffy looked at him. "You'd never believe it. But don't set a toe off that ship   
  
of yours at night."  
  
He looked confused. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. I've got the two most   
  
powerful forces in the world on my side."  
  
Willow asked, in a challenging tone, "Oh yeah?"  
  
The Marine missed her tone. "Yeah. God and the U.S. Marines." He rose. "I think   
  
that just about covers everything. Except for one question. Where did you three   
  
go last night, after leaving the ship?"  
  
Xander answered, having the coolest head of the three. "We stopped by Home Depot   
  
and then had dinner at Applebee's. Willow had the sizzling steak fajitas. Buffy   
  
and I had philly cheesesteaks." They didn't need to know that Buffy, with her   
  
Slayer metabolism, had downed two. Nor that they'd spent two hours patrolling   
  
oddly calm cemeteries afterward.  
  
"You never went downtown?"  
  
"Nowhere near it. Besides, the Bronze is just too packed on Saturday nights, and   
  
it's the only place downtown worth the risk."  
  
"Risk?"  
  
Willow answered that one. "You try being a pretty girl like Buffy and walking   
  
the streets at night. Especially in this town. Really brings out those animal   
  
instincts."  
  
Buffy nodded. "Well put, Will." She turned to Kovalczech. "We'll be around if   
  
you have any more cryptic questions, but please, call ahead." She tossed him one   
  
of Xander's business cards, from his contracting firm.  
  
"Will do, ma'am."  
  
Harmony's Reprisal  
  
Chapter Two: Sailors and Vipers  
  
----  
  
Sunday, 1755 hours  
  
Pier 13  
  
Sunnydale Harbor  
  
----  
  
"Well, guys, here goes." The seven hangar-deck mechanics tromped down the   
  
aluminum staircase from the Reprisal to the dock, ready to go track down their   
  
five comrades and get them out of whatever trouble they were into. Or get into   
  
it with them. It was an old Navy tradition.  
  
In the shadows of the nearby warehouses, a young woman stared at them hopefully.   
  
"Ah, Miss Kendall," she said to herself, "didn't your grandfather always talk   
  
about those bar brawls at Pearl in forty-five, with all those Navy hunks coming   
  
to each other's aid?"  
  
----  
  
Sunday, 1815 hours  
  
Outside the Bronze  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
Hinsley tapped his wrench against his open palm. "They've got to be around here   
  
somewheres."  
  
Just then, Ricardo Valencia popped out of a shadow behind him. "Right here,   
  
Hinsley."  
  
"What happened to you guys?"  
  
"I did." An unfamiliar, blonde girl popped out from behind a Dumpster a few   
  
meters further down the alley. "Join the Navy, see the world." And then her face   
  
twisted into its true demonic visage. "And all its dark underbellies, I say."   
  
Harmony Kendall laughed as her minions set upon the seven Navy men, and each was   
  
having his blood drained within a count of ten.  
  
----  
  
Monday, 0800 hours (Eastern Time)  
  
JAG HQ  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
----  
  
"The Admiral would like to see you, ma'am." Tiner announced as the coldhearted   
  
Lieutenant Lauren Singer breezed in, her parchment-brown hair up in its usual   
  
bun.  
  
"Thank you, Tiner." She stormed into the office as calmly as possible. The   
  
grizzled, balding ex-SEAL Admiral in charge of the Navy's legal division looked   
  
up. "Reporting as ordered, Admiral Chegwidden."  
  
A.J. nodded. "Tiner?" He asked the enlistedman closing the door. "Arrange   
  
transport for one to the Reprisal."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
A.J. waited for the door to close, then began. "The Reprisal reported five   
  
hangar-deck mechanics AWOL yesterday. An additional seven did not report in   
  
today. The ship's Marines have only a single lead - all of them were on liberty,   
  
apparently attending a local club called the Bronze. It's in Sunnydale,   
  
California, where the Reprisal is conducting a port visit until next weekend.   
  
I'm sending you out to Sunnydale to investigate their disappearances."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"I want you to check in with Tiner or the night watch here every six hours. And   
  
immediately upon arrival in Sunnydale."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
Singer stalked out to Tiner's desk. "Ma'am, I've got you a flight to North   
  
Island NAS in San Diego, a driver to the civilian airport, and a civilian flight   
  
from San Diego to Sunnydale. Oh, and a rental car in Sunnydale."  
  
"It's not Southwest Airlines, is it?"  
  
"Actually, it is, ma'am. Your ticket will be waiting at the counter at San Diego   
  
Airport."  
  
Singer rolled her eyes. "I prefer airlines with assigned seating."  
  
"Your flight to North Island leaves Norfolk in an hour and a half, ma'am. I've   
  
got a driver out front for you."  
  
"Thank you, Tiner." But Singer didn't look happy.  
  
----  
  
Monday, 0900 Hours  
  
Counseling Office  
  
Sunnydale High School  
  
----  
  
Xander leaned over the corner of Buffy's cubicle. "Everyone reported in this   
  
morning."  
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows. "After a whole weekend? That's a new one."  
  
"Yes, but the word is out on the Navy guys. They're missing something like   
  
twenty or thirty guys now."  
  
"Hmm. Someone's got a grudge against sailors, maybe?"  
  
Willow piped up over the speakerphone. "Maybe not. They have basic training,   
  
boot camp, like that, right?"  
  
Xander nodded. "Yeah. Physical training and all that."  
  
"So maybe...." Willow's voice trailed off. "Someone's recruiting an army."  
  
Buffy wrinkled her eyebrows. "But why an army of sailors? And why wouldn't they   
  
go back to the shi.... wait, you mean vampire sailors." She looked around to   
  
make sure nobody'd overheard, but fortunately, the other cubicles were empty.  
  
Xander cringed. "Vampire sailors? But they have physicals and stuff in the Navy.   
  
They would have been detected."  
  
Buffy frowned. "Not if they got vamped here in town. Maybe that's why they   
  
disappeared."  
  
Willow cleared her throat. "Hate to say this Buff, but if someone's lining up an   
  
army of vampire Navy guys, they've got a plan for what to do with it. And you   
  
have a lot of enemies who've tried to go after you one-on-one before."  
  
"Not a lot. A lot of them got staked."  
  
"But the ones that survived... might try to get an army of vampires to go after   
  
you. Like Harmony did, remember when she tried to call you out?"  
  
"Yeah, I remember."  
  
----  
  
Monday, 1100 Hours  
  
NAS North Island  
  
San Diego, CA  
  
----  
  
"Lieutenant Singer?" the Marine driver asked, his Marine-green Humvee sitting   
  
not far away on the tarmac. She'd had to fly out on a COD, a plane normally   
  
reserved for delivering mail and fresh foods to aircraft carriers; as such it   
  
was noisy and not-at-all comfy, but at least this trip had not also involved   
  
"trapping" on a carrier. That was perhaps the single most uncomfortable thing   
  
she'd ever experienced - landing on an aircraft carrier while seated in the   
  
uncomfortable, sideways seats alotted for passengers in the front of a COD, and   
  
being jolted by the sudden deceleration of the trapwires. But the Reprisal was   
  
in port, and aircraft carriers needed the extra airflow of sailing at top speed   
  
into the wind to conduct flight ops. So she'd landed on a proper runway instead.  
  
"That's me." Lauren descended the final step, clad in her work blues. The   
  
Marine, in desert-camo gear, saluted.  
  
"They sent me down from Miramar, ma'am. I'm supposed to drive you over to the   
  
civvie airport for a Southwest flight at 1525 local. It's now 1100. I suggest we   
  
get you lunch and get you to the airport, ma'am."  
  
"Anywhere you would suggest? I could use a good cheeseburger." Lauren's diet had   
  
been hampered in that department of late, as one of her coworkers had   
  
blackmailed her into pretending to be Jewish at the office, complete with   
  
getting her the days off for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  
  
"There's a good fast-food joint I like on Thirtieth Street, ma'am." The Marine   
  
offered as he hefted her bags into the cargo deck of the Humvee, under a clear   
  
blue California sky.  
  
"Let's roll." Lauren ordered, as she piled into the passenger seat. Within   
  
minutes they'd exited the naval base - one of several in the area, she knew -   
  
and were headed deep into the city on a bewildering maze of one-way streets   
  
named after trees.  
  
"There's a pileup on the eight at Texas, ma'am. Traffic's bad over there, so   
  
this'll be shorter." He swung the Humvee around a corner and onto Park Avenue,   
  
passing the naval hospital. "Just a quick cut through Balboa Park, and we'll   
  
practically be there."  
  
Sure enough, moments later, they were on Thirtieth Street and pulling into a   
  
crowded burger-joint parking lot. Many of the vehicles were sporting bumper   
  
stickers from some Catholic school, she noticed. She shrugged it off, and her   
  
and the Marine - she hadn't bothered to ask his name - headed inside.  
  
The inside of the Jack in the Box was a madhouse. A portrait of a business-  
  
suited man with a clown's head greeted them just inside the door, and about   
  
three dozen seventeen-year-old boys were lined up at the counter. Every one of   
  
them wearing some form of purple. "Some sort of convention, Marine? All these   
  
guys in purple?"  
  
"No. Lunch hour at the Catholic boys' high school. It's only a few blocks away,   
  
purple is one of their colors, and the seniors are allowed off campus lunch.   
  
Sorry for the delay, ma'am."  
  
Lauren relented. After all, she was going to put up with this Marine for a few   
  
hours yet. "So," waving at the menu board, "What do you recommend?"  
  
"The Ultimate Cheeseburger, ma'am. It's a double with nothing on it."  
  
"Sounds like heaven." Lauren beamed. Maybe this trip to California wasn't all   
  
bad after all. "I'll have that, a large fries and a large strawberry shake." She   
  
palmed him a ten. "If you'll excuse me..."  
  
"Of course, ma'am." He even pointed her toward the restroom. Well, after coming   
  
off a transcontinental COD, it wasn't hard to figure out she was headed for the   
  
ladies' room.  
  
----  
  
Monday, 0910 Hours (Hawaii Time)  
  
Courtroom One  
  
Naval Station Pearl Harbor, Hawaii  
  
----  
  
Mac looked at the members, at the judge, and at Harm, then back to the members,   
  
starting her opening arguments. "The government will prove that the Captain,   
  
while in command of the guided missile destroyer U.S.S. John Glover, did   
  
knowingly and willfully ignore a standing order, which has been in place for   
  
over fifty years, that his ship render honors to the battleship U.S.S. Arizona -   
  
a tomb for honored American war casualties - upon entering Pearl Harbor on   
  
August 27th, by countermanding orders by his XO to carry out those honors. This   
  
is not only a lawful order, but one that has been in place for as long as every   
  
person in this court has served in the Navy, and is common practice for ships of   
  
the Pacific Fleet. And yet, this Captain decided that the normal course of   
  
shipboard operations was more important than paying respects, as ordered, to one   
  
of the most famous and moving war memorials in this country. This was in direct   
  
violation of a lawful order and a dereliction of his duties."  
  
The judge smiled as Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie returned to her seat. "Thank   
  
you, Colonel Mackenzie. Now, we will hear the defense's opening arguments.   
  
Commander Rabb?"  
  
The Commander rose, but did not leave his seat. "The defense will prove that, as   
  
all of his previous service had been in the Altantic Fleet, the newly assigned   
  
Captain of the U.S.S. John Glover was not aware of this standing order, which is   
  
decades old and applies only to Naval Station Pearl Harbor, which he had never   
  
visited prior to the incident in question. His only crime was ignorance of this   
  
standing order." He quickly sat down. Mac could tell, by Harm's stiff posture   
  
and short argument, that not only did Harm think he didn't have a case, but that   
  
he himself disagreed with the man's actions. And as he was the son of a shot-  
  
down fighter pilot, as well as a former fighter pilot himself, she could totally   
  
understand that.  
  
But he had come up with a defense. Ignorance of the law wasn't an often   
  
effective defense, but it was about all he had other than temporary insanity or   
  
claiming the accusation false - and there were too many witnesses for the   
  
latter. Mac leaned back, twirling a pen very slowly. Then the judge spoke up.   
  
"Colonel, call your first witness..."  
  
----  
  
Monday, 1350 Hours (Pacific Time)  
  
Southwest Airlines Ticket Counter  
  
San Diego International Airport  
  
----  
  
Lauren smiled at the ticket agent. "That's right, Lieutenant Lauren Singer, US   
  
Navy." She pulled a note out of her pocket. "I had reservations called in this   
  
morning from my office in Virginia..."  
  
"Ah, here it is. Someone mis-entered your name, it's showing here as Laura   
  
Stinger. Flight 1977 to Sunnydale, departing at 3:25. Just the one ticket?" She   
  
glanced at the Marine escorting Singer.  
  
"I'm just her driver, ma'am. Drove her over from North Island."  
  
"Ah, I see. Well, we can take your bags here, and your flight will be departing   
  
from gate three, which is upstairs."  
  
Lauren nodded. "Thank you." She took her boarding pass, dismissed her Marine   
  
escort, and headed for the security checkpoint at the foot of the escalators.  
  
----  
  
Monday, 1525 Hours  
  
SWA Flight 1977  
  
Departing San Diego International Airport  
  
----  
  
Lauren glanced over the safety card that the flight attendant had handed her.   
  
She'd managed a seat in one of the emergency-exit rows of the small jet, located   
  
just above the right wing. It wasn't nice, but it was much more comfortable and   
  
had almost as much legroom as the seat on the COD. Plus, bonus points, it was   
  
facing forward, the plane was sound insulated, and they both served drinks and   
  
had a restroom. If it wasn't for the twelve-year-old Navy brat sitting next to   
  
her, the flight would have been perfect.  
  
"Are you really in the Navy? My dad's in the Navy. He's a landing signal officer   
  
on the Stennis."  
  
"That's in San Diego. Why are you going to Sunnydale?"  
  
"My grandma lives there. She's a teacher. But dad says there are scary monsters   
  
in Sunnydale, so we only go there when he's at sea. Are there really scary   
  
monsters in Sunnydale, Lieutenant?"  
  
My, the boy knew how to read sleeve stripes. A definite Navy brat. "I don't   
  
know, I've never been there. But I did hear something interesting." Lauren   
  
leaned over and used the scariest whisper-voice she knew, just as the plane   
  
started rolling on the runway. About three years ago, the whole town lost their   
  
voices."  
  
The kid looked at her with big eyes. "But... grandma..."  
  
"It was only for two days." She leaned back in her seat, smirking as the G-  
  
forces of takeoff pressed her back into it.   
  
The kid pulled out a Harry Potter book, previously wedged under his seatbelt.   
  
"Grandma said the school exploded."  
  
Singer raised an eyebrow. She had forgotten that one. "Well, I'm sure everyone   
  
got out safely."  
  
"Hope so. My daddy went to school there. And Grandma said she knew some of the   
  
teachers."  
  
"What grade does your grandma teach?"  
  
"Kindergarten. Dumb little kiddies, they gotta have help going to the potty."  
  
Singer rolled her eyes. Perhaps the kid would start reading, and this flight   
  
wouldn't be like this all the way. Then he started reading out loud, and she   
  
moaned. A chapter in, she'd already heard more than she ever wanted to about   
  
Platform Nine and Three Quarters.  
  
----  
  
Monday, 1630 Hours  
  
Sun City Rent-A-Car Booth  
  
Sunnydale Airport  
  
----  
  
"Laura Stinger?"  
  
"No, Lauren Singer. But the airport in San Diego made the same mistake. I think   
  
the guy who called in my reservations mispronounced it or something. He does   
  
have a Virginia accent, after all."  
  
"I guess. The rest of your details match, even your Virginia driver's license   
  
number." The clerk handed her a small folder and a set of keys. "All we had left   
  
was a navy blue Dodge Viper convertible. It's in our parking lot; we have a free   
  
shuttle to take you out there. And a piece of friendly advice?"  
  
Lauren looked attentive, after signing her name on the forms and handing them   
  
back. "What?"  
  
"Don't drive around with your top down at night."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"In Sunnydale, people have a way of... dying at night. In huge numbers. The high   
  
school yearbook even has its own obituaries. Every year."  
  
Lauren blinked. "Gang violence? Drugs? Street crime?"  
  
"Depends on who you ask, Lieutenant. Good day. Next!"  
  
----  
  
Monday, 1830 Hours  
  
1400 Block, Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
Lauren was driving around town, wind in her hair (which she'd finally let out of   
  
its bun) and enjoying the power of the Dodge Viper on the quiet side streets of   
  
this California beach town. She'd already prowled nearly every street on the   
  
map. Except downtown and the harbor. Perhaps it was time to go check in with the   
  
Reprisal. Then her stomach growled. Perhaps food first. Maybe she could find   
  
another of those delightful Jack in the Boxes.  
  
Just then she passed a house where a twenty-something redhead was carefully   
  
pruning a large tree in the front yard. Or at least, as much of the huge tree as   
  
she could reach. Lauren pulled over in front of the house, 1630 Revello Drive.   
  
She killed the engine and called out, "Ma'am?"  
  
The girl on the stepladder started a little, dropping the pruning shears. She   
  
quickly ran down the steps and out to the sidewalk, blinking at the Navy chick   
  
in the Viper, who was busy removing her sunglasses. "Nice wheels. Can I help   
  
you?"  
  
"Could you direct me to the nearest Jack in the Box, Miss...."  
  
"Rosenberg. Sure. Down that way," she pointed, "Left at the third cemetery, then   
  
right at the blue funeral home, and it's down six blocks on the left, next to   
  
the Casket Warehouse." She stepped back as Lauren nodded, and started up the   
  
Viper. As she slipped it into gear, Ms. Rosenberg added, "I'd put the top up if   
  
I were you!"  
  
Harmony's Reprisal  
  
Chapter Three: Lawyers and Vampires  
  
----  
  
Monday, 1855 Hours  
  
The Viper  
  
Jack in the Box Drive-thru  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"Can I take your order?" squawked the staticy speaker.  
  
Lauren tipped her sunglasses down a touch. "Ultimate Cheeseburger, large fries,   
  
large Coke. And a small order of mozarella sticks."  
  
"That'll be $8.58 at the window... thank you."  
  
Lauren shifted, letting the engine purr its way forward at barely more than an   
  
idle. She was really learning to enjoy driving a machine with this much power.   
  
And she was starting to understand why that infuriating Commander Rabb still got   
  
himself rides in Tomcats at every opportunity. She reached the window, smiling   
  
briefly at the ingenious advertisement plastered to the window, where a battered   
  
Jack antenna ball was muttering "must... rest... bring in... substitute."   
  
Alongside the price for a new antenna ball, a mere dollar. The little foam clown   
  
head did look kinda cute. But Commander Turner would hear about the Ultimate   
  
Cheeseburgers and blackmail her some more about having claimed to be Jewish.   
  
Plus it'd ruin the ice-queen image she kept up at JAG. Too bad, she sighed.  
  
And that got her thinking about today. That young girl who'd given her   
  
directions... she'd had a Jewish name herself. Rosenberg. Just screamed Jewish.   
  
But she was out trimming trees and giving people directions. Did Jewish people   
  
do that? She honestly wasn't sure. Oops... she'd almost missed the attendant.   
  
She palmed her second ten-dollar bill of the day to the drive-thru lady - an   
  
older lady sporting a sizeable silver cross necklace. People in this town were   
  
just so odd. Using cemeteries and funeral homes as landmarks, too.  
  
She collected her food and glanced forward before she slipped the Viper back   
  
into gear. And something caught her eye. Ever since she'd had cable TV, she'd   
  
gotten a perverse pleasure in looking at the programming menu and combining the   
  
(often partial) titles of shows on on adjacent channels at the same time. Like   
  
"Wheel of... World's Worst... Classic Tractors." But the one she'd just seen on   
  
the strip-mall menu board took the cake.  
  
Jack in the Box... Casket Warehouse.  
  
She laughed as she pulled away, sliding the car effortlessly back into traffic   
  
and heading for high ground. She always loved watching the sun set over the   
  
ocean. A pity it was impossible in Virginia. Or D.C.  
  
----  
  
Monday, 1600 Hours (Hawaii Time)  
  
U.S.S. Arizona Memorial  
  
Naval Station Pearl Harbor  
  
----  
  
"Harm, this is what we're talking about." She pointed out the window at the   
  
Aegis cruiser coming into port, its rails manned and its flag at half mast.   
  
Every man on the rails was saluting directly toward them. As if on cue, they all   
  
snapped to smartly, and returned to their duties, as the flag was slowly hoisted   
  
back to full staff. No, not the flag, she noticed. The new regulations. It was   
  
the original Navy Jack. No stars, a simple thirteen stripes, with a superimposed   
  
snake and "Don't Tread on Me" emblazoned across the lowermost white stripe. Mac   
  
turned to look at her... well, friend. They'd worked against each other on   
  
dozens of cases, and together on nearly as many. In court, she thought, they   
  
made good adversaries. Each dangerous enough to keep the other sharp.  
  
"I know, Mac. I've served in the Pacific Fleet, you know. I've manned the rails   
  
for the Arizona a dozen times. More, even. But that's not the...."  
  
"Yes, it is, and we both know it, Harm. Talk to your client. You know the   
  
offer."  
  
"Reduction to the bottom of the seniority list, loss of half pay for a month,   
  
and forty hours of community service here at the memorial?" She nodded. "I'll   
  
talk to him, but he still doesn't seem to understand that ignorance is not a   
  
viable defense in most cases. He thinks I can get him off."  
  
Ah-ha! Mac grinned a little, then stopped herself. She'd known he didn't think   
  
he could win. "So where do you think we'll end up next?"  
  
She cocked her head a bit. "California or Iceland. Maybe Bremerton."  
  
"Explain."  
  
"The last assignment we had was twelve timezones from Washington. This one was   
  
six. If the pattern holds, the next one would be three."  
  
Harm shook his head at her uncanny sense of time. "So what time is it back at   
  
headquarters now?"  
  
"Twenty-two hundred."  
  
"And I bet Lieutenant Singer's still in the office, figuring out how she can   
  
have our jobs by the time your pattern has us back in Virginia."  
  
"Sounds about right." Mac grinned. "And Harriet's probably arguing with Bud   
  
about watching the ten o'clock news rather than some old sci-fi rerun."  
  
Harm could play this game too. "And Tiner's probably figuring out how to make   
  
his coffee even more horrible and make the Admiral more annoyed at him so he   
  
doesn't notice the stunts we pull."  
  
Mac smiled. "And Commander Turner's probably researching Judaism again."  
  
"What?" Harm looked alarmed. "But he's not... his father's a minister..."  
  
"Oh, it's not that. He likes to needle Singer about her being Jewish. Point out   
  
all the little ways she's not following halachic law. Which of course means he   
  
has to look it up to know what the rules are. Pretty soon she'll be asking to go   
  
home early on Friday nights." She smirked. "Funny thing is..." she started to   
  
head out, and Harm instinctively fell into step beside her, "Sometimes I think   
  
he knows more about being Jewish than she does."  
  
----  
  
Monday, 1920 Hours  
  
The Viper  
  
Somewhere near Lover's Lane  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
Singer smiled, watching the sun settle over the sea, the massive aircraft   
  
carrier tied up at the pier glinting in the sunset. The whole town lay spread   
  
out before her, from its mission architecture and tiled rooves to its   
  
shamelessly commercial restaurant marquees and a university belltower. She could   
  
learn to like it here. If she ever planned on retiring from the Navy. Which she   
  
didn't.  
  
The last arc of the sun settled behind a row of softly rolling waves that looked   
  
miles out at sea. The coastline stretching off into the distance helped with the   
  
illusion; the coastline here ran east-to-west, so she'd had to find a good spot   
  
indeed to be able to see the sun set over the ocean instead of the hills west of   
  
town. She sighed, pulling off her shades as the gold of the sky quickly began to   
  
fade into oranges and then, quickly, into greens. She turned to retrieve her   
  
cheeseburger - in Sunnydale, who cared that a cheeseburger wasn't kosher? Except   
  
perhaps that Rosenberg girl? - from the passenger seat, and noticed the sky   
  
behind her had already reached into blues and purples. The sun was setting fast   
  
tonight, probably because of the too-clear sky. She checked her watch and   
  
wondered how long it'd be until she saw stars.  
  
She finished the meal and tossed aside the wrapper onto the passenger side   
  
floorboard of the wonderful car. She'd just lain a hand on the key - still in   
  
the ignition - when she saw stars. Several of them. Radiating from a fist that   
  
had connected with her jaw. She turned, seeing... what? It certainly dressed   
  
human, but this thing had glowing golden eyes and a face like something out of   
  
one of Lieutenant Roberts' sci-fi programs. And long blonde hair and a horrible   
  
fashion sense. The Barbie look was just not in this season.  
  
"Hi. I'm Harmony Kendall. Give me the keys." it said, a low rumble undertoning   
  
her voice. Lauren complied. After all, it was just a rental. Even if it was a   
  
Viper! "Get out of the car." Okay, normal carjacking type stuff. Singer vaulted   
  
over the stick shift, unlocked and slid out the passenger side door.  
  
Of course, now she was trapped between the Viper, a steep drop, and a still-warm   
  
station wagon with peeling paint that had just pulled up next to the Viper. The   
  
thing that called itself - herself? - Harmony Kendall smirked at the driver as   
  
he opened the door, boxing Singer in. Harmony simply vaulted over the hood of   
  
the sports car, landing between the two cars' front tires. "You must be that   
  
pretty JAG lawyer the Navy guys said would come. I want to talk. Just talk. For   
  
now."  
  
Lauren swallowed, but said nothing, her ice-princess facade slipping into place.  
  
"Oh, don't pull the ice-queen act on me, I've seen Drusilla pull that crap   
  
enough. Listen. I've got a teensy problem here in town. You're not going to   
  
believe me at first so just shut up. There's this girl. She's been divaly   
  
chosen..."  
  
"I think you mean divinely chosen," Lauren piped up, timidly.  
  
"Right. To kill my kind. And she's too smart. I've tried going after her, her   
  
friends, even with a few guys on my side. But none of that worked. And I've SO   
  
got to kill her."  
  
"So..."  
  
"Well then your pretty aircraft carrier comes to town. With a whole boatload of   
  
these nice, young, physically fit men. I say, a few dozen of these and I can   
  
kill Buffy Summers six times over. Then they send you out. The government's   
  
gotten into the biz out here before, and all they did was muck things up and...   
  
well, they did get rid of Spikey for me. So we've got to kill you to keep you   
  
from bringing the government to town."  
  
"But you said you just wanted to talk."  
  
"For now. You see, I don't have to leave you dead."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Miss..." Harmony read her nametag. "Singer. I'm sure you've heard about   
  
vampires, werewolves, stuff like that. If you are bitten by one, under certain   
  
circumstances, you become one. Right now I can use all the help I can get. So I   
  
offer you this choice."  
  
"What choice, miss... Kendall?"  
  
Harmony nodded. "You see, I can leave you dead on the ground and take this way-  
  
cool car, or I can make you a vampire and you can keep the car. As long as you   
  
promise to help me."  
  
Singer considered. If this girl had only such a short-range plan... and her   
  
"warriors" were Navy sailors... and she was a Navy officer... well then they'd   
  
naturally look to her when their "orders" ran out, now wouldn't they? So after   
  
this Buffy girl was toast, she'd have her own private army. Lauren smiled. "I'll   
  
help you. So what does this... becoming... entail exactly?"  
  
"I drink your blood. Not all of it, of course, but enough. And you... you drink   
  
some of mine. To replenish you, and to change you."  
  
"How much?"  
  
Harmony considered. "A mouthful will do, I think." She batted at the   
  
cheeseburger wrapper, which had fluttered up to her face in the breeze.   
  
"Probably tastes better than this we-don't-make-it-until-you-order-it crap. I   
  
like my food there when I go looking for it."  
  
----  
  
Monday, 2000 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"Hey Dawnie, ya gotta stop doing that." Willow called from the kitchen as Dawn   
  
fingered her queen's knight.   
  
Xander grinned. "You do always lead with your knights, Dawn." He pointed to her   
  
gleaming black chesspieces. "And that whole row of pawns."  
  
"I don't like pawns." She said, half-between her teeth. "They remind me of keys.   
  
Always getting put in situations where they just don't quite fit. And getting   
  
stuffed in other people's pockets."  
  
Buffy turned from the TV. "Dawnie, stop it. You're a human. Not just a key or a   
  
pawn or whatever."  
  
"But that's just it! I'll always be a key and a pawn too. Even Harmony thinks   
  
so!"  
  
"Har... Harmony?" Buffy couldn't help but giggle. Sure, Harmony had declared   
  
herself to be Buffy's archenemy. But she'd had quite a few more intelligent,   
  
more cunning, more sneaky archenemies before. In fact, pretty much all of them.  
  
"Remember when she kidnapped me to get to you?" Then she defiantly grabbed her   
  
queen's knight and plunked it down in the corner of the open center of the   
  
board, in front of the pawn in front of her queen's castle.  
  
----  
  
Monday, 2145 Hours  
  
The Viper  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"So how does this work exactly?"  
  
"Well, the basic stories. We kill people, feed on their blood. Wooden stakes,   
  
beheading, fire, sunlight, holy water... not things you want to mess with."   
  
Harmony giggled. "And government commando soldiers with tranq guns."  
  
"You were serious?" Lauren asked. Or the thing that had been Lauren Singer. She   
  
still wore the Navy uniform, but her features were a bit more... feral. And   
  
she'd kept the sunglasses. She hadn't got used to not seeing herself in the   
  
mirror yet. With sunglasses at night, she could barely see at all. Which suited   
  
her well, as it had been a long day. A very long day. And her last.  
  
"Yeppers!" Harmony bubbled, spinning the car's wheel a bit more than necessary   
  
at an intersection. "Lauren, take those glasses off. I've got to show you   
  
something." She pointed at a house.  
  
Lauren could have sworn it was that Jewish girl's house. Rosenberg.  
  
"That's where your... vampire slayer lives?"  
  
"Yep. Sixteen-thirty Revello Drive, ever since we were in tenth grade. Buffy   
  
lived in L.A. before that."  
  
"Buffy? What kind of name is Buffy Rosenberg?"  
  
Harmony laughed her all-too-high-pitched laugh. "Two different people. She's   
  
brought that witch Rosenberg to live with her since her mother died. Buffy's   
  
name is Summers. She's also got a little sister named Dawn. Or younger I should   
  
say, she's the tallest of their whole bunch. Even stupid Xander."  
  
Lauren spoke up. "Since we're just looking, perhaps we should go before anyone   
  
notices us."  
  
"Anyone like..."  
  
"Your slayer. Or Miss Rosenberg, who gave me driving directions a few hours ago.   
  
And what's this about her being a witch? I thought she was Jewish."  
  
"So did I. Till Cordy told me about the gypsies. But that was ages ago..."   
  
Harmony gunned the engine and they were off. "Let's go get us a few more   
  
sailors, and I'll show you what I did to you. We need all we can get."  
  
In the distance behind them, Spike smirked. "So... Harmony's going after the   
  
bloody Slayer again. This, I gotta see...."  
  
----  
  
Tuesday, 0830 Hours (Eastern)  
  
JAG HQ  
  
Falls Church, VA  
  
----  
  
"Admiral?"  
  
"What is it, Tiner?"  
  
"Lieutenant Singer never checked in when she got to Sunnydale. I checked with   
  
her airline and her rental car company. She did get to Sunnydale and did pick up   
  
her car. But there's no trace of her after that. She never called in, there's no   
  
hotels in her name, and she never signed onto the Reprisal."  
  
"So you think..."  
  
"She's missing too, sir."  
  
"Who do we have we can send out there?" He glanced around the office. All his   
  
big guns were out of town already.  
  
"Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb are in court in Pearl, sir. I could   
  
arrange for them to go to Sunnydale on their way back. Word is they might be   
  
finished today."  
  
"Do that. What's the Reprisal's missing count up to?"  
  
"They haven't done morning roll yet, sir... it's 0530 there. But according to   
  
the security logs, it looks like forty-two. Plus Singer."  
  
"Damn it, this is escalating. Where could forty sailors be in a town that size?"   
  
The Admiral asked rhetorically, before heading into his office and slamming the   
  
big wooden door.  
  
Tiner shrugged, and put in a call to Pearl. He got the night watch in the comm   
  
center there; of course, it was 0230 in Hawaii. Plenty of time to wait for the   
  
Reprisal's morning roll call before sending a message or two to Rabb and   
  
Mackenzie.  
  
----  
  
Tuesday, 0820 Hours (Hawaiian)  
  
Courtroom One  
  
Naval Station Pearl Harbor  
  
----  
  
"Please be seated." They all sat, and the judge looked at Harm attentively. "I   
  
believe a plea agreement has been reached overnight?"  
  
"Yes, sir. My client would like to change his plea to guilty, pending the   
  
government's offer of punitive action."  
  
"Which is?" He turned to Mac.  
  
"Reduction to the bottom of the seniority list, loss of half pay for a month,   
  
and forty hours of community service here at the Arizona memorial, sir."   
  
The judge considered for a moment. "Sounds a bit light to me. Up that community   
  
service to fifty hours and you've got a deal. Plea accepted. Case closed."  
  
He whacked the gavel, and Harm tuned to his client. "Thank you, Commander. I   
  
thought they were going to drum me out of the service."  
  
"The only permanent effects are the black mark on your record and your loss of   
  
time in rank, sir. It'll be a long time before you get a new command, and   
  
perhaps no chance at becoming an Admiral."  
  
"Oh well, I never wanted to be an Admiral anyways. I always liked being on the   
  
action end of the command tree."  
  
Mac rushed up behind him. "Harm... got a message from Tiner. Orders, for both of   
  
us."  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"The Admiral wants us to head for California immediately. There's fifty-one   
  
sailors missing from the Reprisal during a port visit. And..." Mac's face   
  
brightened as she read... "Lieutenant Singer is also missing."  
  
"Singer? How?"  
  
"They sent her to investigate and she never reported in after arriving and   
  
picking up her rental car."  
  
"That's not like Singer at all. Let's go, Mac."  
  
Harmony's Reprisal  
  
Chapter Four: Questioning Witnesses  
  
----  
  
Tuesday, 1215 Hours (Pacific)  
  
Construction Foreman's Office  
  
Sunnydale High School  
  
----  
  
"There you are, Dawnie!" Buffy exclaimed. Not that she'd really been planning to   
  
run into Dawn here, but Dawn liked exuberant greetings. She bobbed her head,   
  
smiled, and embraced Buffy in a silent hug.  
  
The reason? Xander and Willow were huddled over a speakerphone, their lunches   
  
forgotten beside them. Buffy, with her Slayer's metabolism, seized Xander's   
  
Twinkie while he wasn't looking. Willow saw it, and grinned slightly.  
  
"Ah... here it is..." Giles's voice came over the staticky line, his thickening   
  
accent telling Buffy he was still in England. "The seer said that she saw a dark   
  
force rising in Sunnydale. But its aura was not black."  
  
"Not black? But dark?" Buffy wondered. "What is it then?"  
  
"She said it was a very dark shade of the colour blue." The way Giles pronounced   
  
it, you could actually hear the U in color.  
  
"Like..." Willow stammered, as she always did when she didn't think before   
  
speaking. "N...Navy Blue?"  
  
"I suppose. Why?"  
  
Xander recapped the weekend for Giles. "There's an aircraft carrier visiting.   
  
They're giving tours, we went and saw it. And they're missing some sailors."  
  
"Sailors as in more than one?"  
  
Buffy checked the newspaper. "Sailors as in dozens. About forty."  
  
"And they've been in port since...." Giles prodded.  
  
"Friday." She glanced at Xander's Harry Potter clock, which was set on English   
  
time. A twisted gift from Dawnie, who was - shall we say - obsessed with   
  
everything Harry Potter. It was eight hours ahead. "Probably Saturday morning   
  
for you."  
  
"I'll talk to the seer, see if she had any more details, but it seems as if your   
  
missing sailors may be the culprits."  
  
Willow spoke up. "I had a theory about that. What if one of Buffy's old   
  
enemies... Drusilla for example... decided to come back and kill Buffy, or all   
  
of us? They might think, having tried and failed to do so before, that vampires   
  
with military training might be just what they need to pull it off."  
  
Dawn piped up. "You mean an army of sailor vampires?"  
  
Willow nodded. "Right."  
  
Giles coughed, and the static made it sound as if he was very ill. "It's   
  
possible. Have you sighted anyone threatening lately?"  
  
"Not that I haven't killed." Buffy spoke up.  
  
Xander shrugged. "Just means maybe they're laying low for now."  
  
Giles said, "I agree. It's a bit early to jump to such a conclusion, but dozens   
  
of American sailors don't just disappear." He paused. "And you know, the   
  
government might send someone into Sunnydale to investigate."  
  
"Already done." Willow remarked. "Two police-type Marines came and questioned us   
  
at the house, because the first victims were last seen talking to us at the tour   
  
gate. And I gave directions to some officer who looked suspisciously like a   
  
lawyer."  
  
"When?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Yesterday afternoon, when I was pruning the front yard tree. She drove up in   
  
uniform and shades in a blue Viper and asked how to get to Jack in the Box. I   
  
gave her directions and she left. That was the whole conversation."  
  
"Odd. Very odd. I advise you keep as close a watch as you can on these   
  
government types. As long as you can do it without getting in trouble with   
  
yourselves. Now, we'd best get off the phone before Xander owes Pacific Bell his   
  
firstborn son. But call anytime." Click.  
  
"So what's the plan? Dawn asked hopefully.  
  
"Up our patrols near the docks. And Dawnie, you're goign to be in charge of the   
  
house, in case the Marines or someone come back while we're out patrolling.   
  
Willow, can you handle daytime?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Problem solved. I want a call to both me and Xander immediately if anyone in a   
  
military uniform tries to talk to anyone. And don't tell them anything they   
  
don't already suspect. Now, let's do lunch."  
  
----  
  
Tuesday, 1530 Hours  
  
Luggage Claim  
  
Sunnydale Airport  
  
----  
  
Mac stopped at the bottom of the stairs from the gates. "I'll be right back."   
  
She made a beeline for the ladies' room, leaving Harm waiting outside with their   
  
claim checks. Correction, his claim checks. She hadn't handed him hers.  
  
Moments later she breezed out, her face glistening wetly, but otherwise looking   
  
just as she had going in, in her tropical-duty khakis, just as Harm was wearing.   
  
"Why didn't you give me your claim check?" he asked.  
  
"It takes a certain amount of time to unload the bags from the plane, put them   
  
on the converyor, and... five seconds."  
  
Sure eenough, luggage started appearing just as Harm counted one-thousand-five.   
  
"How do you do that?"  
  
"I've told you a hundred times. I just have great timing."  
  
"As regular as a Swiss watch." Harm joked. "So how long until our bags come up?"  
  
"It's variable, dependeing on what order they put the bags on the conveyor. You   
  
know that." Just then she leaned forward, then stood up, shaking her head. "I   
  
hate those military-surplus sea bags. Always thinking they're ours."  
  
"Not mine. Remember I had my wings stenciled on mine. Maybe you should get the   
  
globe and anchor stenciled on yours."  
  
"Not a bad idea." She swooped forward and gracefully lifted his sea bag, half-  
  
tossing it into his stomach.  
  
"Ow."  
  
"Here we go." She scooped hers up. "Now for tranportation to the ship. Tiner   
  
didn't mention any, so..."  
  
"Taxi?"  
  
"Sounds good to me, Harm."  
  
----  
  
Tuesday, 1855 Hours (Eastern)  
  
JAG HQ  
  
Falls Church, VA  
  
----  
  
"JAG OPS, Lieutenant Sims speaking."  
  
The voice on the line was all too familiar. "Harriet, it's Mac. We're on the   
  
Reprisal. We're going to have to go into town a bit to investigate, could you   
  
call a car for us?"  
  
"Sure, ma'am. Where?"  
  
"Pier 13, Sunnydale, CA. Have it here at... oh, 0730 local. We'll bunk down on   
  
the ship tonight, if the Admiral wants to get ahold of us."  
  
"Right, Colonel. 0730, Sunnydale Pier 13. Your name or Harm's?"  
  
"Better make it Harm's. He's a control freak when it comes to driving."  
  
"Okay, ma'am. Anything else?"  
  
"Say hi to Bud and little A.J. for us. We'll be back in no time." Not quite   
  
accurate, Mac mentally corrected herself, but it was the thought that counted,   
  
wasn't it?   
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 0755 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"I'll get it!" Willow called out, hurtling down the stairs as Dawn finished   
  
brushing out her hair and Buffy hunted for the keys to Giles' BMW convertible,   
  
which was in the garage. "And Buff, I'll drive." She opened the door - bright   
  
sunlight, not vampires, therefore not of the bad most likely.  
  
Or maybe not. It was two imposing Navy types. One of them a woman. And she   
  
looked kind of familiar. In more than just physical ways. She had Power.  
  
The tall man - Willow blinked as he turned and the sun glinted off the gold   
  
wings on his chest - leaned forward, hat in hand. "I'm Commander Harmon Rabb.   
  
This is my partner, Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. We're investigating the missing   
  
sailors. The Marines told us they'd been here already, so we thought we'd follow   
  
up..."  
  
Willow nodded. She quickly glanced at Colonel Mackenzie. She hadn't been aware   
  
that the government was using non-Muggles (a Dawnism, picked up from the Harry   
  
Potter books no doubt) for interrogations, but the Colonel seemed not to be   
  
trying to use any abilities. "Please, come in. Have a seat. The living room is   
  
to your left."  
  
Dawn tumbled out of the bathroom and bounced down the stairs, her usual   
  
hyperactive self. "What's up, Will?"  
  
Willow turned. "Nothing. Are you ready for school?"  
  
"Yep." Then she noticed the two military officers on the couch. She waved   
  
politely and emitted a single "Hey." accompanied by a head bob.  
  
Colonel Mackenzie smiled. "Good morning. When does your school start?"  
  
"Eight-twenty."  
  
"How long does it take to get there?"  
  
"About ten minutes."  
  
"Relax. You've got another thirteen minutes and twelve seconds." Colonel   
  
Mackenzie smiled.  
  
Willow turned, staring straight at her. "How do you do that?"  
  
"I get asked that several times a day. Harm?"  
  
Harm spoke up. "Mac says she's got great timing."  
  
Willow thought it was more than that. This 'Mac' was definitely Powerful. No   
  
muggle could calculate time to the second without a clock. Hell, even she   
  
couldn't. But different people had different Gifts. "We'll take you early.   
  
Buffy, you'd better call in sick. And then call Xander. I'll be back." She   
  
grabbed the keys from where she'd hidden them from Buffy - under a potted plant   
  
in the foyer - as she hurried Dawn out the door.  
  
Buffy, for her part, dialed up the school. "Hello... yes, this is Miss Summers.   
  
I won't be coming in this morning. Something came up. I might make it in this   
  
afternoon, but if not, I should be back tomorrow." She paused. "Yes, my sister   
  
will be in class. She's not... involved in this situation. One of my housemates   
  
is driving her over as we speak." She could her Giles' BMW purring out of the   
  
garage. "Alright, thanks." She tapped the hang-up switch on the phone and dialed   
  
up the construction office. "I need to speak to Mr. Harris. Now. Tell him it's   
  
regarding the conversation we had at lunch yesterday." She paused. "Buffy   
  
Summers. He has my number and address. Bye."  
  
She turned to Harm and Mac, sizing them up from across the room. Both were   
  
seated in the early-morning direct sun, so that was of the good. "Can I get you   
  
anything to drink?"  
  
Harm nodded. "If you have any coffee. Black, with sugar."  
  
"Done. And you, ma'am?"  
  
"Milk, if you have some. Or just water."  
  
"I think we can handle that." She headed into the kitchen, and quickly came back   
  
with a tray with two glasses of milk, three cups of coffee, and a large plate of   
  
toast. She plunked all of this down on the coffee table, snatched up a cup of   
  
coffee and a slice of toast, and sat down. "Please, help yourself." she offered,   
  
as she slumped sideways in the chair, her sock-feet hanging over the arm of the   
  
chair toward the table.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." Harm said, pulling a notepad from his   
  
briefcase.  
  
"Buffy Anne Summers. And I didn't catch yours either, I'm sorry."  
  
"Commander Harmon Rabb. This is Colonel Sarah Mackenzie."  
  
She smiled at his wings. "You're a pilot."  
  
"I was. I'm a lawyer now. Night vision problems."  
  
She turned and looked at Mackenzie. "And you're a Marine."  
  
"Marine first, lawyer second, I say." Just then Willow and Xander came in, each   
  
scooping up one of the two remaining drinks - like Mac, Willow chose milk, as   
  
Buffy had rules about her caffeine intake - and taking seats across from Mac.   
  
Leaving Buffy to stare at Harm.  
  
"So what did y'all want to know?" Xander asked, being all Friendly-Guy.  
  
"First, names?" Harm asked, tapping his notepad.  
  
"Oh, right. Alexander Harris. But everyone just calls me Xander. And that's   
  
Willow Rosenberg."  
  
"How do you three know each other?"  
  
Buffy fielded that. "They had gone to the Sunnydale schools their whole lives. I   
  
moved up here in tenth grade, and we were fast friends. We've stuck together   
  
after school, and when my mom died, Willow moved into her old room, to help me   
  
raise Dawnie."  
  
"Your sister?" Mac hazarded.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Does anyone else live here?"  
  
"No. We've a couple acquaintances who pop in from time to time."  
  
Willow spoke up. "But they're all out of town right now. Out of the picture   
  
really. At least, for now."  
  
"So... what did you see that was unusual?" Mac asked, glancing around to   
  
indicate the question was for all of them. But Willow spoke up.  
  
"You mean on the ship, in town, or the girl in the sports car?"  
  
"Let's start with the sports car."  
  
"Well I was in the front yard pruning the tree. It was around six Monday night.   
  
This Navy chick drove up in a blue Viper and shades and asked me for directions   
  
to Jack in the Box. I gave them to her. Then she left."  
  
Harm looked slightly puzzled. "Can you describe her?"  
  
"She looked normal. Sand-blonde hair. Couldn't see her eyes. A little bit of a   
  
sunburn on her face. Oh, and she was wearing a blue uniform."  
  
"Dress blues. Did you notice anything on the sleeves?"  
  
"Two wide gold stripes on her wrists."  
  
Mac tapped her fingers on Harm's notepad. "Write that down. I bet it was   
  
Singer."  
  
"What were the directions?" Harm asked.  
  
"Left at the third cemetery, then right at the blue funeral home, and it's down   
  
six blocks on the left, next to the Casket Warehouse." Willow paused. "Oh, and I   
  
told her she should put the top up. It was almost dark." That earned her a look   
  
from Buffy and a slight kick from Xander. Mac caught it, she was sure.  
  
"Why would she need to put the top up in the dark?"  
  
Xander waved his hand. "Old Sunnydale custom. We used to run around putting the   
  
hoods up on each other's jackets for fun."  
  
Willow winced. She could tell, even with someone that she didn't know, from   
  
halfway across a room, Mac had seen right through that one. But she didn't press   
  
it. "So you told her she should put the top up and then she drove off."  
  
"Yep, that was it."  
  
Harm grumbled, "If it's who we think it is, she'd leave it down just to spite   
  
you. Have you seen that car again?"  
  
"No." Buffy answered. "I go for a lot of walks. High metabolism. And I haven't   
  
seen it on the curb anywhere in the neighborhood. A blue Viper stands out, even   
  
in Sunnydale, when you know to look." She snatched up a second piece of toast.   
  
And a third.  
  
"Now, about the sailors you saw leaving the ship on Saturday..."  
  
"They were going to a club. Everyone knows there's only one decent club in   
  
Sunnydale. The Bronze. It's an old converted warehouse downtown. We used to go   
  
there a lot when we were in high school. So I gave them directions to it."  
  
"That's all?" Harm asked, incredulously.  
  
"Yep."  
  
Xander spoke up. "You do know about the town, right?"  
  
Mac answered, "No."  
  
"The old stories say the Spanish called it the Boca del Infierno. Mouth of Hell.   
  
All sorts of strange things happen in this place. I'm sure you noticed the   
  
cemeteries?"  
  
"There was a lot of them."  
  
"Sunnydale has a high death rate. But the economy is so good, people still move   
  
here. They say it has to do with muggers." Xander said, evasively. And Willow   
  
knew Mac knew he wasn't telling the whole story. Strange, how she'd been able to   
  
pick up on Mac that fast. It was almost as if they'd trained together. Perhaps   
  
in a previous lifetime? Or maybe it was because quite a lot of Buffy's behavior   
  
was a lot like Mac's. As far as she could tell so far. Perhaps she could read   
  
Mac because she'd gotten so good with reading Buffy?  
  
"So you're saying that our missing sailors are dead..."  
  
"Most likely. Or worse..." Xander said, before Buffy stared him down.  
  
"Worse how?" Mac asked.  
  
"You'd never believe it." Willow said, putting some force behind her words.   
  
Perhaps the Jedi mind-trick thing actually worked in real life?  
  
Apparenly, it did. Harm finished his coffee and stood up. "I think it's about   
  
time for us to go. We may be back, ladies, gentleman."  
  
Mac hung on for a couple seconds, then shrugged and followed Harm out. Those   
  
couple seconds she spent staring at Willow.  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 0825 Hours  
  
Harm's Rental Car  
  
Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"What's next?"  
  
"Well, we could go look at this Bronze place." Harm offered.  
  
"I doubt we'll find anything four days later at a dance club. Those places are   
  
busier than that."  
  
"Not all of the disappearances happened the first day. They're ongoing."  
  
"True. Alright, then."  
  
Harmony's Reprisal  
  
Chapter Five: Revelations and Allies  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 1145 Hours  
  
Construction Office  
  
Sunnydale High School  
  
----  
  
Dawn bounced into the move-on trailer, glancing eagerly at the Harry clock that   
  
told English time. "Can we call Giles?"  
  
"Sure." Xander flipped a few cards in his rolodex, coming to the G section.   
  
"Here you go."  
  
Dawn beamed as she punched in the dozen-plus numbers and heard the distinctive   
  
trill of a British, rather than American, telephone. Giles picked up, but   
  
answered with a curt "Evening."  
  
"Hey Giles!" Dawn burst out. Xander could just imagine Giles having to hold the   
  
phone several inches from his ear. "What's up in England?"  
  
"Nothing you need concern yourself with. There was a bit of a magical surge up   
  
in Scotland around noon, but otherwise, everything is the same as usual here.   
  
What about Sunnydale?"  
  
"Oh there was this Navy guy at the door this morning and Buffy stayed home.   
  
Willow drove me to school. She's so cool. Thanks for loaning her your car."  
  
"It was cheaper and safer than shipping it to England. Besides the wheel is on   
  
the wrong side and I can use it instead of a rental when I come visit."  
  
"You're so smart! I wish I had a Watcher and he was just like you."  
  
Giles coughed. "Dawnie, I consider all of you my responsibility. Now, where are   
  
Xander and Buffy and Willow?"  
  
"Xander's right here." Just then Buffy and Willow piled in through the flimsy   
  
door. "And here's Buffy and Willow. They have the coolest timing."  
  
Willow spoke up. "No, we don't. Is that Giles?" Dawn nodded, and Willow reached   
  
for the phone. "Giles... one of the investigators the government sent out...   
  
she's a Marine lawyer... and she's sensitive."  
  
"How sensitive?"  
  
"She knew what time it was to the second. Without a clock. Told Dawnie exactly   
  
how long she had before she had to leave for school. Dawnie timed it with her   
  
watch. She was right on."  
  
"Bloody hell. Willow, someone like that... she may not be as powerful as you   
  
are, but she might be powerful in other ways. She could have visions or   
  
prophecy-dreams or uncanny luck. Keep your eyes peeled. She'll make a good ally   
  
in a fight - but she's also a Marine, so you'll have to convince her she should   
  
be your ally."  
  
Willow nodded, forgetting Giles couldn't see her. "Yes, Giles. Want to talk to   
  
Buffy?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 1225 Hours  
  
The Bronze  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
Harm looked around at the converted warehouse-turned-danceclub. "I don't see any   
  
sign of a fight. Except..." He pointed at a table near the edge of the dance   
  
floor, which had an odd lump along its lower edge.  
  
Mac, who was a little closer, ducked to look at the bottom of the smallish   
  
table. Harm heard a sound like electrical tape being peeled loose, and then Mac   
  
tossed him an object.  
  
What he held was a wooden spike, about the size of a railroad spike he'd once   
  
found on a childhood hiking trip. "Interesting." He hefted the smallish spike,   
  
and asked, "I wonder who put this there."  
  
Mac shook her head. "I'd be willing to bet it's one of those three we talked to   
  
this morning." She pointed at a trail of tiny specks of blood that had soaked   
  
into the flooring. "They said this town has a high death rate. Perhaps it's for   
  
protection?"  
  
"But why a wooden spike, and not a knife or a gun?" Then he answered his own   
  
question. "Because those are things you carry with you. This is for   
  
emergencies."  
  
"Or..."  
  
Harm turned, looking at Mac in the dim light. "What?"  
  
"I remember hearing a few things about this town, now that I'm thinking about   
  
it. A few newspaper clippings on Bud's desk. Mysterious deaths. Sightings of   
  
non-human entities. That sort of thing. But nobody's ever had any published   
  
proof. There's even a rumor that the Army had a squad of Rangers or Delta Force   
  
out here a couple years ago. Supposedly hunting... well, demons, if you believe   
  
that sort of thing."  
  
Harm shook his head. "Probably just college kids making up stories like usual. I   
  
remember when I was at the Academy, there was a story going around that there   
  
was a ghost in the Naval History classroom that could suck the ink right out of   
  
your pen. While you were using it."  
  
Mac nodded. "Could be. But then, when you hear enough oddball things happening   
  
in one place, there's usually a cause behind it. Even if it isn't what the   
  
stories say."  
  
"True."  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 1400 Hours  
  
Bridge, U.S.S. Reprisal  
  
Pier 13  
  
Sunnydale Harbor  
  
----  
  
"Nice to meet you, Commander, Colonel. So, any leads on my missing sailors?"   
  
asked Captain Fitzgerald, the Reprisal's commanding officer.  
  
Harm spoke up. "We checked on the leads your Marines gave us - which wasn't   
  
much. So far we haven't found any distinct evidence, other than a small trail of   
  
bloodstains in the building they were reportedly headed for. They're too soaked   
  
in, however, to collect any for testing."  
  
Mac spoke up. "I'd advise that you cancel liberty for the remainder of your port   
  
visit here, to prevent further disappearances, while we get this all sorted   
  
out."  
  
"Agreed. We lost another fifteen sailors this morning. I'm going to have the   
  
Pentagon asking how we could lose sixty-six sailors in a week in an American   
  
port. Even deserters don't come in large groups like that."  
  
Harm nodded. "Obviously, some or all of them are either dead or being held   
  
against their will. Either way, we intend to get to the bottom of it."  
  
Mac's cellphone trilled. She looked at the caller ID, mouthed Harriet's name to   
  
Harm, and turned to take the call. "What is it, Harriet?"  
  
"Afternoon, Colonel. Bud just emailed me from the house. Apparently, the   
  
Sunnydale PD has their dispatch computer linked to the Internet, and he's been   
  
watching it. Apparently they are towing a car matching the description of Lt.   
  
Singer's rental from a handicapped parking space. Would you like the address?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
"It's at the Seaview Cemetery, on Sunset Bluffs Drive between Princeton Street   
  
and South Bend Lane."  
  
"Thanks, Harriet." She folded up the phone, and apologized to the Captain. "We   
  
just got another lead. One of our staffers is monitoring the local police   
  
dispatch, and they've located a rental car rented out to the original JAG   
  
officer who was dispatched here but never reported in."  
  
"Be careful. And keep me posted." The Captain turned, raising his binoculars to   
  
watch a crowd of civilians walking the flight deck.  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 1845 Hours  
  
Princeton Street  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"Sorry about that, Harm." Mac had accidentally led them right into the heart of   
  
U.C. Sunnydale's fraternity row, where they'd been delayed for several hours by   
  
a traffic accident, when a fraternity student's car had burst out of a garage.   
  
It had sideswiped their rental car, and caved in the entire passenger side,   
  
deeply bruising the outside of Harm's right thigh when it had been impacted by   
  
the passenger-side door's armrest. Strangely enough, just as the car had struck   
  
them, its driver had burst into flames, and vanished. By the time the poice   
  
arrived, there was nothing in the car but a light dusting of ash.  
  
Now they'd gotten a replacement car - the rental company had sent them a sports   
  
car this time, a Porsche 911 even. The British racing green sports car rumbled   
  
to life, with Mac at the wheel. "Now let's go check out that cemetery."  
  
"I'm sure they've towed the car by now."  
  
"Yes, but there could be evidence at the scene."  
  
She smoothly motored up onto the bluffs overlooking the Mission-architecture   
  
town of Sunnydale, and not surprisingly, the first turnoff was Sunset Bluffs   
  
Drive. About a quarter mile along the winding road, she spotted the gates of the   
  
Seaview Cemetery, chained shut. But she pulled up in front of them and parked   
  
the car in the driveway nonetheless.  
  
"Looks closed for the night."  
  
Harm shook his head. "It's just a driveway gate, Mac. We've gotten past much   
  
more difficult obstacles." He opened his briefcase, taking out a legal pad, a   
  
pair of pens, a pistol and a police-style flashlight. "Let's go check it out."  
  
"Expecting to club something to death, Harm?" Mac asked, pointing at the   
  
flashlight as she palmed the car keys into her pocket.  
  
"It's almost sunset. Didn't want to have to come back to the car for it."  
  
"Ah." By now they were both out of the car, and it was safely locked up. She   
  
went over to the low-slung wrought-iron gate - topped with three-inch spikes   
  
that barely came up to her shoulders - and climbed it easily. Harm winced as he   
  
did the same, favoring his bruised leg. "Sure we don't need to take you to the   
  
hospital? Or the sickbay on the Reprisal?"  
  
"I'll be fine for a couple hours. Let's get this done, so this trip's not a   
  
total waste." He pointed across the oil-stained parking lot. "There's the   
  
handicapped spaces."  
  
They slowly made their way across the old pavement, Mac nearly tripping on a   
  
particularly robust weed coming up through a crack. But she didn't want to rush,   
  
as Harm seemed to be having trouble walking on his injured leg. Just then, the   
  
shadows became the night, as the sun finally went down behind the low trees   
  
along the far edge of the graveyard.  
  
Mac looked around as they reached the handicapped parking. Four spaces lay side-  
  
by-side, all facing into an enormous marble mausoleum with the name 'Mackenzie'   
  
emblazoned over the door. Mac shivered.  
  
"Talk about someone walking on your grave." Harm joked, looking at the massive   
  
structure, as the parking lot got darker and darker. "I think I see fresh oil   
  
here." He pointed at the slot closest to the mausoleum's door.  
  
Mac pulled a digital camera out, and had Harm shine the flashlight on the oil,   
  
finding a pair of tire tracks in them. "No wonder they spotted the car. It was   
  
parked diagonally across the space." She clicked a couple pictures of the   
  
tracks. "We'll have Bud look at those, see if they match the tires on Singer's   
  
rental."  
  
Just then, a growling sound came from the left of the mausoleum. Turning toward   
  
it instinctively, both officers saw... something coming at them. Its build was   
  
obviously human, but it couldn't be. It had a feral gleam to its eyes, badly   
  
misshapen facial features, and protruding teeth.  
  
And it was wearing the uniform of an Electrician's Mate Third Class.  
  
Mac took a defensive stance in front of Harm, and punched the thing in the face.   
  
It staggered a little, but kept coming. She hit it again, and it staggered again   
  
before backhanding her across the face.  
  
When she felt how cold its hands were - cold as death - she shivered again.   
  
Behind her, she could hear Harm switch the safety off the pistol he'd brought.   
  
He shot the thing twice, right between the eyes.  
  
It blinked, looked at her, and growled. Nothing human could survive the two   
  
bullets this thing had just taken to the brain. But somehow, this thing was not   
  
only surviving, but looked like it was still ready for a fight.  
  
Then Mac sensed something. Another person, coming up behind her attacker. She   
  
backed up a step, seizing the flashlight from Harm's belt, and hit the creature   
  
across the face with it, breaking its nose. Thank god for MagLite.  
  
But it was still fighting. It kicked at Harm's ankle, knocking him to the   
  
ground. And then, with the clap of what could only be platform shoes on asphalt,   
  
their second attacker came up behind the thing, and then it quite unexpectedly   
  
stopped, a surprised look on its face, and burst into a cloud of dust.  
  
As the dust fell to the ground, Mac recognized their savior. Buffy Summers, clad   
  
in a powder blue duster and platform shoes that made her as tall as her   
  
companion, the red-haired Willow Rosenberg, who was busily stuffing a pistol-  
  
sized crossbow back into a duffel bag hanging from her shoulder.  
  
Buffy looked at Mac, while sliding a wooden spike up her sleeve. She hadn't a   
  
clue what to say.  
  
It was Harm that broke the silence. "What was that... thing?"  
  
"Vampire. That's why it didn't go down when you shot it. There's not many ways   
  
to kill them, and a gun isn't one of them."  
  
Mac peered at her. "But... vampires? If there really were vampires, wouldn't   
  
people know about it?"  
  
Willow spoke up, leaning against the mausoleum wall. "People have a knack for   
  
not seeing what they don't believe. Seeing isn't always believing."   
  
"You wouldn't believe how many corpses turn up in Sunnydale with fatal blood   
  
loss caused by being stabbed in the neck with a barbecue fork." Buffy smirked.   
  
"And how many people are disregarded in police reports because they're clearly   
  
hallucinating."  
  
Mac shivered again. "So that thing was..."  
  
"One of your missing sailors, I expect." Buffy confirmed. "Vampires have the   
  
ability to turn their victims into new vampires. It's how they..."  
  
"Procreate." Willow supplied. "You see, they can't reproduce sexually. They're   
  
also somewhat immortal. They don't die unless they are killed."  
  
Buffy nodded. "It's because they're already dead. You noticed how he felt cold   
  
when he slapped you?"  
  
Mac nodded. "He felt cold as death."  
  
"Because he was."  
  
"But... you..."  
  
"Know all about them. Come on, let's get out of here. It's not safe." The four   
  
of them all headed for the gate, Harm limping a bit. Buffy looked concerned.   
  
"Commander, you're limping."  
  
"Car accident. We got sideswiped earlier today." Harm replied.  
  
"Ah. So where were we?"  
  
Mac said, "You know all about vampires. Or so you claim. But how?"  
  
"Because I'm the Slayer."  
  
Mac looked confused, but it was Willow who spoke up. "A Slayer is called from   
  
among all humanity, and given the knowledge and power to fight vampires. Sort of   
  
a champion, a superhero. And that's Buffy."  
  
"But when Buffy dies..."  
  
"A new Slayer will be called, instantly. It's happened before." Buffy said.   
  
"It's always a teenage girl."  
  
"But you're not a teenager." Harm commented, as Willow wrapped her hands around   
  
the cemetery gate's lock.  
  
"That's because I've been the Slayer for a long time. Several years, in fact.   
  
One of the longest-lived Slayers yet."  
  
Just then, Willow shoved the gate open, the lock hanging, unlocked, from one end   
  
of the chain. Mac looked at her. "Impressive lockpicking capabilities."  
  
Willow blushed. "Actually, I have a key. We found the groundskeeper dead a few   
  
months ago."  
  
Mac shrugged, and pulled out the keys to the Porsche. "I think we need to sit   
  
down somewhere and talk about this."  
  
Buffy nodded. "Meet you at my house. Sixteen-Thirty Revello. Vampires can't come   
  
inside a private home unless they're invited in. It's one of those magical-  
  
protection type deals. Until then, stay in the car with the doors locked and the   
  
windows up. And if anything attacks you, well... the cops in this town don't   
  
write many speeding tickets."  
  
"Gotcha." Harm moved toward the driver side, and Mac handed him the keys.   
  
"Sounds like we might need a former fighter pilot at the wheel."  
  
"Wouldn't hurt." Buffy answered.  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 1930 Hours  
  
The Mackenzie Mausoleum, Seaview Cemetery  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"My car!" Singer shrieked. "They took my car!"  
  
Harmony waved her hand impatiently. "Don't worry. You still have the keys,   
  
right?"  
  
"Yes." Lauren hissed.  
  
"Good. I know just where the police impound yard is. In the meantime..."  
  
"We've got sixty sailors already, Miss Kendall. Shouldn't that be enough?"  
  
"It is. What we need now are some tools. Sledgehammers, crowbars, axes, that   
  
sort of thing."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because we can't go into a house unless we're invited by someone who lives   
  
there. Everyone in Buffy's house knows better, so in order to get to her, we're   
  
going to have to tear down her house."  
  
"Ah." Singer nodded. "But... why not try to ambush her in public somewhere?"  
  
"We've tried that before. She gets away. After killing a lot of us." Harmony   
  
turned. "Do you know those two that were outside?"  
  
"Yeah. Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie. Two of my coworkers at JAG. I'd   
  
love to kill them both."  
  
"Then you shall have that chance. But first, we've got a Home Depot to attack."  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 2020 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
Xander came in the door, a trio of pizzas in his hands, and Dawn following with   
  
another of those wooden spikes in hers. "Hey!" She chirped, dropping the spike   
  
and hugging Willow.  
  
Then she saw Commander Rabb and Major Mackenzie in the living room. With Buffy.   
  
"Hi Dawn. Dawn, meet Harm and Mac." Buffy introduced them.  
  
"Cool names. We've got pizza."  
  
Xander nodded. "Didn't know what everyone might want so I got the classics. Two   
  
cheese, one pepperoni."  
  
Willow returned from the kitchen with a stack of paper plates, and the pizza   
  
turned out to be just the right proportions. Mac and Xander took pepperoni,   
  
while Harm, Buffy, Dawn and Willow all chose cheese.  
  
Harm, still his curious self, had his notepad out. "So how do you kill a   
  
vampire?"  
  
Xander listed off a few methods. "Wooden stake through the heart. Beheading.   
  
Fire. Holy water. And... I'm forgetting one."  
  
Dawn giggled. "Sunlight. Not artificial light, though. Also they can't stand   
  
crosses, though a cross won't really kill them, it just sets 'em on fire."  
  
Mac nodded, looking at Buffy. "So what sort of weapons do you carry?"  
  
"A few stakes, a crossbow sometimes, sometimes a sword." She looked at Harm,   
  
longingly. It had been a long time since she'd had such a hottie of a man in her   
  
house. Not counting Xander and Spike, of course.  
  
Willow interrupted. "Why do you think they're sporting Navy uniforms now?"  
  
"Obviously," Mac supplied, "those vampires are our missing sailors. So that's   
  
the first part of our investigation solved."  
  
Harm looked curious. "What's the second part?"  
  
"The why." Xander offered. "But we think we might have that partially worked   
  
out, too. There's certain vampires, demons, what have you - we just call them   
  
baddies - who see Buffy as a personal enemy. Some of them, we know by name. And   
  
we think this might be a scheme by one of them to recruit their own private   
  
army, one of vampires with military training."  
  
Mac nodded. "Sounds reasonable. Listen to me. I'm talking about vampires and   
  
demons here."  
  
Buffy smiled. "With a Vampire Slayer, a mystical key, a witch, a fighter pilot   
  
and a construction foreman. Sounds reasonable to me."  
  
Dawn joked, "Next thing you know we'll have Professor Dumbledore walking in   
  
here."  
  
"Who?" Xander asked.  
  
"Geesh, Xander, crack a book once in a while." Dawn jibed.  
  
"So," Harm summarized, "the missing sailors are now vampires, working for one of   
  
your local archvillains. But we don't know exactly who, or what they are up to."  
  
Just then, Mac's cellphone trilled. "Excuse me." She picked it up. "Colonel   
  
Mackenzie." She paused. "Lieutenant? Are you all right?"  
  
Then she held out the phone to Buffy. "It's for you."  
  
Buffy took the phone, asking, "Who is it?" She listened, then tossed the phone   
  
back to Mac, practically laughing her face red.  
  
Willow told her, "Calm down, Buffy. What is it?"  
  
"It's Harmony."  
  
"Harmony? I mean, come on, Harmony?!?" Buffy was laughing so hard she was having   
  
trouble breathing.  
  
Harm looked curious. "Who's Harmony?"  
  
Xander took it upon himself to fill in Harm and Mac. "Harmony Kendall. She was   
  
one of the dumb blondes of the in-crowd in high school. Got turned into a   
  
vampire shortly after graduation. We've crossed paths with her a few times since   
  
then. Each time she's had a crackpot scheme to kill Buffy. Except... well, she   
  
may be a vampire, but she's still a dumb blonde."  
  
Harm smiled. "I see."  
  
Mac frowned. "Yes, but this time, she's not the brains of the operation."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"She's got a partner. Lieutenant Singer."  
  
Harm blanched. "Oh, dear."  
  
Buffy was still chuckling over Harmony's renewed threats against her life, so   
  
Willow asked. "Who's Lieutenant Singer?"  
  
Mac frowned. "She's the office bitch. Always scheming and plotting behind   
  
everyone's back. And her schemes have a tendency to actually work. One time she   
  
nearly had Harriet and Bud... sorry, our two married friends... not speaking to   
  
each other and we had to fly halfway around the world to put things back   
  
together."  
  
Willow looked like she understood. And that this was a Very Bad Thing. "So we're   
  
facing an army of sailor vampires with Harmony's vendetta and competent   
  
leadership?"  
  
Harm nodded. "That's about it." He looked at Buffy, who'd suddenly stopped   
  
laughing.  
  
Dawn jumped out of her chair, and started pacing. "Well, we've got to figure out   
  
what she would plan to do. And knowing Harmony..."  
  
Willow finished. "It'll be based on how her plan failed last time. Last time she   
  
tried to call Buffy out, but Buffy wasn't home. And she tried to kidnap Dawn and   
  
ambush Buffy by forcing her to rescue Dawn. But Buffy got Dawn away and back to   
  
the house..."  
  
Mac winced. "You said vampires can't enter unless invited?"  
  
"Yes. It's the main thing we have going for us, other than Buffy, sometimes."  
  
"But what if they could get around that somehow?"  
  
"Nowhere would be safe." Willow nodded.  
  
Dawn smiled. "Well, in the meantime, let's enjoy ourselves, 'kay?"  
  
Harmony's Reprisal  
  
Chapter Six: Gathering Forces  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 2130 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
Three pizza boxes lay demolished on the floor, and Xander had taken Dawn out to   
  
pick up some ice cream. Willow and Mac had retired to the kitchen, leaving Harm   
  
and Buffy in the living room. "I wanted to discuss something with you." Willow   
  
started, oddly timid all of a sudden.  
  
"Anything." Mac answered. "Well, I reserve the right to stop you."  
  
"You're sensitive. I can tell just by being around you."  
  
"Sensitive to what?"  
  
"Magic. The Force. Psychic abilities. Talent. Whatever you prefer to call it.   
  
You've got it, and so do I."  
  
Mac blinked. "You mean my visions?"  
  
"It's not just visions, I think. But yes. You can train those abilities, and   
  
they could come in quite helpful." Willow paused. "Especially around here. What   
  
else have you done?"  
  
"Well, I can usually tell what someone is going to say, just before they say it.   
  
Assuming it's someone I know. And... well, I can tell time."  
  
"I can tell time too, they taught it in kindergarten."  
  
"No, not like that. Without a clock." Mac grinned. "Name a place."  
  
"Cornwall." Mac's eyes didn't seem to comprehend. "It's a province in western   
  
England."  
  
"Oh. It's five-thirty-two tomorrow morning." Willow herself glanced at the   
  
little glowy clock on the microwave, and added eight hours. She quickly checked   
  
behind her for a clock Mac could have seen, but there were none.  
  
"Do you mind?" Willow reached for Mac's arms.  
  
Mac pulled her sleeves up herself. "No watch."  
  
Xander and Dawn entered through the kitchen door, plastic bags containing sodas   
  
and cartons of ice cream in hand. Will looked at Xander questioningly. "I   
  
thought it might be better to... ah... not use the front door."  
  
Willow watched Xander's skin turn a few extra shades of pink. "What's going on   
  
in there?" She quickly got up, and opened the door to the living room - and   
  
quickly shut it again. "Good thinking."  
  
After the groceries were put away, and bowls retrieved for the ice cream, Willow   
  
tried the door again. She listened intently, shrugged, and then called out.   
  
"Would you two like some ice cream?"  
  
Harm, slightly out of breath, answered back. "Sure. Two, please."  
  
Xander, knowing Buffy's appetite, had already spooned out an extra-large serving   
  
for her. Dawn scooped out one for Harm, and Willow grabbed both bowls. "I think   
  
I'd better take those." She made her way into the other room, where Buffy and   
  
Harm were straightening their outfits - not that Willow, with her senses,   
  
couldn't tell what they'd just been doing, even if she hadn't overheard it a   
  
little from the kitchen door. "Here you go, guys. And... you're not fooling   
  
anyone. Except perhaps Dawnie."  
  
Buffy blanched. "What did you tell her?"  
  
"Nothing. And Xander was quite considerate. They even used the kitchen door when   
  
they came back." Willow turned, and went back into the kitchen. "So, Xand, how   
  
was traffic?"  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 2200 Hours  
  
Home Depot  
  
1774 Massachusetts Avenue  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
The manager was just palming the keys from his pocket - to lock the front door   
  
at closing time - when he felt a knife at his throat. "Don't call out."  
  
"There's no money... it's all in the safe already."  
  
Harmony peered out from behind a trash can on the opposite side of the doorway,   
  
her demonic eyes glowing. "That's alright. We didn't come for money. Lauren, go   
  
ahead and kill him."  
  
For her part, Lauren Singer took the keys, and quickly twisted the door lock   
  
back to the unlocked position, before sinking her teeth into the soft flesh at   
  
the base of the Home Depot manager's neck. A cashier screamed.   
  
Harmony nodded at her army - or was it a navy? - of vampire sailors, and pointed   
  
at the group of employees huddled near the cash registers. "Get 'em, boys. Then   
  
get us some tools. Axes, crowbars, chainsaws..."  
  
Lauren held up a hand, and Harmony paused as the Navy lieutenant finished   
  
draining the manager, dropping him unceremoniously on the concrete slab.   
  
"Ladders, too. It's a two-story house."  
  
"Good point. Ladders, too, boys!" Harmony bubbled. The sailor-vampires, for   
  
their part, started draining the cashiers, while a few (the more recently-fed   
  
types) started looking for tools.  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 2300 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
Xander flipped on the TV, wondering what might be on the eleven o'clock news.   
  
Buffy and Harm had... what was the word... adjourned to upstairs, and Dawn had   
  
headed off to bed as well. Willow and Mac were still talking in the kitchen as   
  
the TV screen came to life, the "breaking news" graphic glowing across the   
  
bottom of the screen.  
  
Some mindless reporter was droning on in front of the Home Depot. "... police   
  
are not revealing anything, but our source claims that the entire store staff   
  
has been found dead inside, except for the manager, who was found just outside   
  
the front doors. What the police have said is that the entire stock of   
  
chainsaws, crowbars, and two-story ladders appear to be missing. They claim,"   
  
and it was obvious from the reporter's tone that the police were not all that   
  
trustworthy, "that this was a simple robbery. However, according to reports, no   
  
money was missing from the cash registers or safe."  
  
Xander bolted out of his seat as he caught a glimpse of a body at the threshold,   
  
covered in clear plastic. The body was unusually pale. Like all the blood had   
  
been drained from it. Yet there wasn't a puddle of blood on the ground. "Will!"  
  
Willow ran in from the other room. "What?"  
  
Mac was right behind her, and staring at Xander, she said, "You look like   
  
someone died."  
  
"They did. Vampires attacked the Home Depot at closing time. And they didn't   
  
take the cash."  
  
Willow started up the stairs. "It's Harmony. I'd better get Buffy."  
  
"How do you know it's Harmony?" Xander asked.  
  
"'Cause any other vamp would've taken the cash too."  
  
"Good point." He checked his watch. "Anyways, I'm heading home. See you guys   
  
tomorrow." He palmed a stake in one hand, his keys in the other, and headed out   
  
the door.  
  
----  
  
Wednesday, 2330 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"So... this is the couch... if you don't mind crashing on the couch." Willow   
  
smiled, offering Mac a quilt with a green-and-red checkerboard pattern.   
  
"Not at all."  
  
"Safer than a hotel. At least here, you don't have to worry about who the former   
  
occupants might have invited in."  
  
"Harm!" Mac called out, nodding at Willow.  
  
Harm poked his head around the corner; he'd just come down the stairs. "Yeah?"  
  
"Gimme the car keys, so I can get our things. Willow said it's not a problem if   
  
we... sleep over." It was a problem with her, but she knew Harm too well. He   
  
wouldn't understand what was bothering her, or why. Even if she said it. She had   
  
to admit, though, that at least Buffy wasn't a military officer, and therefore   
  
he wasn't potentially causing any chain-of-command problems. And there was   
  
little chance that she'd end up in Falls Church with them, as had happened with   
  
Bud and Harriet. And eventually, Harm would realize that she loved him. Probably   
  
about a month after she worked up the courage to admit it.  
  
Harm grinned. "Heads up." He tossed the keys from across the room, and Willow   
  
noticed their trajectory alter slightly in midair. The keys dropped neatly into   
  
Mac's hand.  
  
Willow smirked. "Told ya, Mac."  
  
Mac looked at her, questioningly. "Told me what, Will?"  
  
"I'll tell you after we get your stuff. Come on." Will shoved the door open, and   
  
checked the front yard, stake in hand. "All clear."  
  
Mac hurried out to the car, all her Marine training telling her that the yard   
  
and driveway were perfectly safe. Willow was watching from the open doorway,   
  
anyhow. Mac lifted out Harm's sea-bag, setting it on the pavement, then hefted   
  
her own. She slammed the trunk, pocketed the keys, and grabbed Harm's bag again.   
  
She carried both of them up to the porch, and just inside the doorway, Harm took   
  
his own bag from her. "Thanks, Mac."  
  
"No prob, Harm. Have a... nice night." She smiled, but it was directed more at   
  
Will than Harm. "So what were you going to tell me?"  
  
"I noticed..." Will paused, until she was sure Harm was out of earshot upstairs.   
  
Mac had said she didn't want to mention this to him, at least, not yet. "The   
  
keys... the trajectory changed in midair. If it hadn't, those keys would've   
  
fallen at your feet. And I didn't do it. You did."  
  
"I did?"  
  
Will frowned. "It was subconscious, was it?" She looked impressed and   
  
disappointed at the same time. "That means you've got so much power, and you're   
  
so used to using it, that you don't realize that you are using it. Which makes   
  
it very difficult to learn to use it consciously."  
  
Mac slumped onto the couch, rummaging though her bag for some suitable pajamas.   
  
"Well, I'd like to learn. How much can you teach me while we're here?"  
  
"Depends on how much time you have." Will smiled. "And after, there's email.   
  
It's not perfect, but I can give you a few pointers. I know how tough it can be   
  
learning witchcraft solo, but..."  
  
"You mean, like Wicca?"  
  
"Wicca's a religion. Historically closely related to witchcraft, but it's not   
  
the same thing. There's Wiccans with no power, and people with tons of power who   
  
follow other religions, or none at all. Or make up their own - that one's more   
  
common than you might think." She cocked her head. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"I was undercover with a group of Wiccan Seabees a few years ago in   
  
Mississippi."  
  
"Heard about that one on the net. That was you?" Willow didn't pause, but   
  
noticed Mac nod. "Don't worry about them. They sounded like the no-power types   
  
anyway, and not exactly following the rules they claimed to follow, either.   
  
Lucky for you - someone with real power like you and me, they would've known you   
  
were deceiving them. Might have even figured out the truth, but I doubt it, with   
  
your psychic shields."  
  
"Psychic shields?"  
  
"You know Star Trek?" Mac nodded. "Well, think of your mind as a starship.   
  
Someone trying to get to you can do it the nice way, or they can try to come in   
  
by force. And to prevent that, you have shields. And people like you, who use   
  
their power subconsciously, often have either very strong or very weak shields.   
  
And yours, well, they're stronger than mine are. And that's saying a lot,   
  
because I've been using my power consciously for about six years." Will held her   
  
hand up. "That can sometimes be a bad thing, because to use your powers   
  
consciously, or in ways you're not used to, you've got to get around them."  
  
Will looked at the clock, forgetting that she could have just asked Mac. "Well,   
  
it's getting late; we'd better try to get some sleep. I can teach better when   
  
I'm well-rested."  
  
"Agreed." Mac grinned.  
  
"Have a good night. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to wake us. We're   
  
right upstairs."  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 0030 Hours  
  
Seaview Cemetery  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
"So, what precisely is the plan?" Lauren Singer asked, hefting a chainsaw   
  
liberated from the Home Depot. Off to one side, a former Master Chief was   
  
gassing up a half dozen more chainsaws.  
  
Harmony smirked. "I told you, we can't go in the house without being invited in.   
  
But if we make the house unsafe, they'll have to come out before it collapses on   
  
them. And then we'll have them."  
  
"And if they don't come out?"  
  
"Once we've torn the house down to ground level, I think the mystical protection   
  
it provides will go away. Either way, we'll have them."  
  
"Assuming we can pull all that off by first light. Maybe we should wait until   
  
tomorrow night, so we have all night..."  
  
Harmony shook her head. "We don't know that they'll be home. And with those...   
  
colleagues of yours... and Buffy's friends... they could find out what we're up   
  
to before that. It's not safe to wait. Spikey used to say..."  
  
"Spikey?"  
  
"Another vamp I know. Thinks he's the big bad. Anyways, he used to say that the   
  
downfall of every vampire and demon who's set up against Buffy in this town, was   
  
waiting too long to pull off whatever they wanted to do, and letting Buffy get   
  
wind of it in time to interfere. We're not doing that."  
  
"So we go tonight." Lauren nodded. "Any delay could be fatal."  
  
"Right." Harmony wrapped an arm over Lauren's shoulder. "I think we'll make a   
  
great team."  
  
Until this is over, Lauren thought. Once their orders run out, those sailors are   
  
going to look to me for leadership, not some dumb blonde former cheerleader. But   
  
she held her tongue. "Why do you have such a thing for killing Buffy?"  
  
"She's the main threat. Once she's out of the way, the rest of the town will   
  
fall like dominoes." She smirked. "Especially Xander Harris." Harmony had been   
  
wanting to drain him since she'd become a vampire. He was no better than she   
  
was, and had only survived this long because instead her teaming up with   
  
Cordelia (who'd ultimately abandoned her and called her a sheep), he'd been a   
  
sidekick to Buffy and Willow.  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 0210 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
Mac woke up, a shadow passing over the front window of the house. No, not a   
  
shadow, the headlights of a truck. She glanced out the window, seeing several   
  
men unloading tools and ladders from the large pickup truck. A navy blue Dodge   
  
Viper rumbled into the driveway behind her own rental, and its lights clicked   
  
off.  
  
Mac rose, pulling the quilt around her, and ran up the stairs. "Which one is   
  
Willow's?" she asked herself, looking at the hallway full of closed,   
  
nondescript, white doors. She decided to simply start pounding on all of them   
  
and see who answered. Through the window at the end of the hall, she saw a   
  
ladder being raised against the outer wall of the house.  
  
Dawn was the first to answer, coming out with her impeccably straight hair and a   
  
blue nightgown with small rubber duckies printed all over it. "What's wrong?"   
  
Dawn asked, sleepily.  
  
"Ladders." Mac pointed at the hallway window, just in time for Dawn to see a   
  
vampire climbing it with a fire axe. "Buffy!" she shrieked.  
  
Willow's door flew open, the young witch clad in a set of blood-red sweats that   
  
didn't quite match her hair color. "What's wrong?"  
  
Mac summarized what she and Dawn had seen. "Vampires, with ladders and fire   
  
axes. Here."  
  
"But... but... they can't come in without being invited."  
  
"So what the hell are they doing?" Buffy blurted out, just as she herself opened   
  
the door, wearing a white tee-shirt and plaid pajama pants, cradling a crossbow   
  
in one arm and her favorite stake tucked into her waistband.  
  
Mac frowned. "That's what I'd like to know."  
  
Harm appeared behind Buffy, in a Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants. "Whatever it   
  
is, it doesn't sound good."  
  
Just then, they heard a loud crashing sound at the foot of the stairs...   
  
Buffy pointed at a large trunk at the foot of her bed, which as always, was   
  
sitting unlocked. "Weapons all around." Then she headed downstairs.  
  
Harmony's Reprisal  
  
Chapter Seven: Deconstruction  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 0215 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale  
  
----  
  
Buffy ran down the stairs, looking on in horror as the front door lay on the   
  
floor. Harmony stood on the porch, and the female sailor-type with the chainsaw   
  
next to her had just finished cutting through the door frame. "You must be Buffy   
  
Summers," the vamp snarled as the chainsaw wound down.  
  
Mac hissed from just behind Buffy's shoulder. "Singer."  
  
"Colonel Mackenzie. How nice to see you again, ma'am. Pity it'll be the last   
  
time." Lauren Singer - or at least, the thing that once was Lauren Singer -   
  
paused for effect. "Since you'll be dead by sunrise. Where's Commander Rabb?"  
  
Harm hustled down the stairs, a wicked-looking machete in hand, and peered at   
  
the vampire on the porch. "Singer? Bud always claimed you were evil, but..."  
  
Buffy laughed. "Nice empty threat there. I hope your friend there," she pointed   
  
at Harmony, "has informed you that vampires can't enter a house without being   
  
invited."  
  
"Don't need to." Harmony gloated, as Singer cranked the chainsaw again. "We can   
  
tear your house down well enough from the outside."  
  
Buffy's eyes went wide. So did Willow's - she'd pushed her way down the stairs.   
  
"The Home Depot attack. We saw it on the news. Xander said it was you..."  
  
"Harris." Harmony spat. "Where is that boy?"  
  
"He went home a couple hours ago. Sorry. You'll just have to get killed by   
  
someone else." Buffy smirked. "Speaking of which..." She leveled the crossbow at   
  
the two vampires on the porch, but just then, she was startled by a crashing   
  
sound in the kitchen, as the back door fell in. By the time she recovered,   
  
Harmony and Singer had taken cover by moving away from the doorway, and out of   
  
sight from Buffy's position at the foot of the stairs.  
  
A rhythmic thumping sound came from the wall behind the fireplace. "What the..."   
  
Harm started, just as the blade of a fire axe broke through the drywall.  
  
"They're trying to hack the walls down!" Dawn shrieked.  
  
"Not quite." Buffy corrected. "They're tearing down the house. This is SO not   
  
called for." She turned to Willow. "Dawn and Harm upstairs, see what you can do   
  
about staking the vamps through the windows. Mac, Will, you've got the   
  
downstairs."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I'm taking the roof." She set down the crossbow, and hefted a wooden umbrella   
  
from the basket by the door. It wasn't a usual feature in a Southern California   
  
house, but it did the job - keeping stakes handy near the front door. She   
  
quickly slid on a pair of Willow's Vans - good thing they were the same shoe   
  
size - and ran out the door to the nearest ladder. Unfortunately, her Slayer   
  
consciousness noted, they were fiberglass-and-aluminum ladders, hance no help   
  
with the possible slayage.  
  
Her Slayer speed and strength were, however. She raced up the two-story ladder   
  
one-handed, and practically vaulted onto the edge of the roof. Thanking whatever   
  
powers worked for good in the universe that her house had asphalt shingles,   
  
rather than a cedar-shake or Spanish-tile roof, both of which were tough to get   
  
traction on, she rushed a group of vampires who were trying to start a pair of   
  
chainsaws.  
  
"Nuh-uh, not going to let you do that!" She cried out, staking the vamp holding   
  
the first chainsaw from behind, just as he was starting it. She carefully caught   
  
the saw by the handle, and hurled it at another vamp's head, the spinning blade   
  
of death catching him in the neck and cleanly decapitating him. A third vamp   
  
simply lunged at her, hungrily, and she easily dusted him with a parry with her   
  
umbrella. Thank the gods she'd had Giles teach her fencing.  
  
Three vamps down, but unfortunately, twice that many had come up the ladders in   
  
the meantime. It seemed Harmony and this Lauren person had a good supply. She   
  
thought she recalled Harm or Mac saying something about fifty missing sailors,   
  
and cringed. She didn't want to have to stake fifty vamps tonight.  
  
One - oddly enough, the only one in sight not wearing a Navy uniform - rushed   
  
her with a... crowbar? At the last minute, just as the vamp was about to clock   
  
her with the crowbar, baseball-bat style, she slammed it in the chest with the   
  
wooden umbrella, and he, too, turned to dust. The crowbar fell to the roof, and   
  
slowly slid off of the shallow slope.  
  
She turned, hearing laughter behind her. Just in time, too, as yet another   
  
sailor-vamp threw a socket wrench at her head. She ducked it, then ran up the   
  
slope of the roof. She knocked him off of the precarious balance he'd found on   
  
the crest of the roof, and he was soon scrabbling along the shingles on the far   
  
slope, trying to regain his traction before he fell off the roof.  
  
Another sailor-vamp tried rushing her with one of the seemingly ubiquitous fire   
  
axes. She parried with her umbrella, but it snapped in half at the force of   
  
being hit by the much thicker wood of the fire axe handle. So she picked up the   
  
chainsaw, which had luckily fallen to rest about where she was standing, and   
  
blocked the next axe-swing with it. Then, she cranked up the saw motor, and the   
  
third axe swing sent the axe head flying off the roof, severed from its handle.   
  
The fourth swing found Buffy dropping the chainsaw, and carefully catching the   
  
axe handle. A short stick-fight later, Buffy had not only wrenched the axe   
  
handle from the vamp's hands, but sent him flipping onto the wreckage of the   
  
ruined umbrella. Luckily for her, he landed just so, and burst into a cloud of   
  
dust.  
  
"That's what, five, six?" She guessed. Honestly, she was so caught up in the   
  
fight, she'd already lost count and was simply in survival mode. Dawn hadn't; a   
  
crossbow bolt came flying out of one of the now-broken upstairs windows,   
  
catching a vamp in the heart just as it was climbing off of one of the ladders.  
  
"The ladders. Of course." She could get down through the upstairs windows - the   
  
upstairs of the house was smaller than the downstairs, so the house actually had   
  
a split-level roof. The vamps, on the other hand, had to use the ladders or   
  
jump. She rushed over to the front-yard side of the house, and started shoving   
  
the ladders away from the edge of the roof. She called out, "Get the ones near   
  
the ladders!" For the time being, there was only one or two left on the roof,   
  
and she didn't want to get surrounded.  
  
Meanwhile, Dawn and Harm were watching the battle on the ladders (and the lower   
  
part of the roof) from the upstairs windows. Dawn had armed herself with Buffy's   
  
trusty crossbow, and was working the antiquated crank to cock it for a second   
  
shot. Unlike Buffy, she couldn't simply pull back the cable; that required   
  
Slayer strength. Harm, for his part, had staked two vamps who'd gotten close to   
  
the bedroom windows, while trying to clamber up onto the upper part of the roof.   
  
They could hear the sounds of axes and chainsaws downstairs, and hoped Will and   
  
Mac were handling themselves down there.  
  
In the living room, Mac was staring down Lauren Singer through the gaping hole   
  
where the front door had formerly stood. That is, before Lauren had sliced and   
  
diced the doorframe with a chainsaw, and kicked the door in. A lot of good that   
  
had done, since she still couldn't come inside herself. She'd even given up on   
  
trying to trick Mac into letting her in - she'd discovered that Colonel   
  
Mackenzie's invitation was worthless, since she didn't live in the house.  
  
Will, on the other hand, was battling over the remains of the kitchen door.   
  
Harmony herself hadn't approached - she was standing a good twenty feet away,   
  
taunting Willow with childhood insults, like recalling Cordelia's choice   
  
comments on Willow's school clothes from the pre-Buffy days. But several of the   
  
sailor-vampires had approached, each being defeated by Willow, who was making   
  
skilled use of the protective mystical barrier where the door had stood. Every   
  
time a vamp would seemingly gain the upper hand, she took a step back, forcing   
  
it to lunge forward into the shield, and then staking it before it knew what had   
  
happened. She was tempted to break off and show Mac exactly what she was doing,   
  
but then thought better of it. "Mac!"  
  
Colonel Mackenzie rushed into the kitchen, a stake in each hand. "What is it,   
  
Will?"  
  
"Watch what I'm doing." She stepped out on the back porch, letting another vamp   
  
come after her, just as Harmony made some silly remark about the 'softer side of   
  
Sears'. The vamp lunged, and Will parried with an arm, allowing it a little   
  
closer. Just as it tried to seize her by the shoulders, she jumped back through   
  
the open doorway. The vamp, sure enough, lunged forward, and Mac nearly   
  
screamed. But Willow calmly said, "I've got you now!" and staked the vamp just   
  
seconds after he pancaked himself against the invisible barrier at the   
  
threshold. "They can't enter the house, see?"  
  
"Oh, I get it. Very smart." Mac smiled. "Mind if I try it?"  
  
"I could use a breather. Maybe a glass of water." Will nodded. "Just don't go   
  
more than about three steps out the door."  
  
Harmony yelled, "Willow Rosenberg, you're such a coward! No wonder you always   
  
had Xander and Buffy fighting for you in high school!"  
  
Will scowled. "At least I survived graduation with my body temperature intact!"   
  
She blushed. "I can't believe I just said that." She grabbed a bottle of holy   
  
water out of a kitchen cabinet, uncorked it, and hurled it out the door toward   
  
Harmony. Unfortunately, her aim was off, and it sailed harmlessly into the yard,   
  
five feet to Harmony's left. To Mac's questioning eyes, she explained, "Holy   
  
water. Harmless to us, like acid to them. And not the LSD kind."  
  
"Well, time to try out this door-fighting technique of yours." Mac grinned,   
  
taking a pair of carefully measured steps onto the back porch. Then she found   
  
out why all the action had been at the back door. Apparently the sailor-vamps   
  
had enough of their memories intact that they weren't willing to try to attack a   
  
Marine Lieutenant Colonel with not one, but two weapons at the ready. Half a   
  
dozen of them shrank back, and one even turned and ran out of sight completely.  
  
"Spoilsports." Willow remarked, looking over Mac's shoulder at Harmony. "And   
  
she's not even a vampire slayer. Just a Marine. I bet you didn't even tell them   
  
that the real vampire slayer is up on the roof." Willow turned. "I haven't had   
  
this much luck since I got back to Sunnydale just in time for Yom Kippur a   
  
couple weeks ago."  
  
Mac frowned. "I didn't know you were Jewish... but with a name like Rosenberg, I   
  
guess I should have figured that out."  
  
Harmony cackled. "Touching moment, guys, real touching. But guess what? You're   
  
on the porch!" She rushed them, but pulled up short when both Will and Mac   
  
lifted two stakes.... and was that a fifth, hovering behind them in the doorway?   
  
"What the...."  
  
Mac smirked. "Just something I thought I'd try." She closed her eyes for a   
  
second, and the stake started flying through the air at Harmony, at roughly the   
  
speed of a bird. Harmony backed off, and after she was about twelve feet away,   
  
the stake fell harmlessly to the ground. Mac sighed.  
  
Will, however, was impressed. "Took me three weeks to levitate a pencil, and   
  
even then, I couldn't do it from twelve feet away for another week." She hurled   
  
a large stake in Harmony's direction, but Harmony was a bit further away than   
  
she could throw the heavy stake, and it fell to the ground well short of its   
  
target. "Let's get back inside the doorway. I don't think this is working for   
  
us."  
  
Mac nodded, and spoke up loudly. "Too bad this Harmony has an army of such   
  
cowards."  
  
"They're not cowards!" Harmony yelled. "They're brave men who signed on to see   
  
the world! And I'm showing them the real world!"  
  
Willow grinned. "And the warning label. Keep out of direct sunlight."  
  
"Rosenberg!" Harmony shrieked, finally provoked enough to lunge toward the door.   
  
She stopped mid-rush, however - struck on the head by a fire axe handle - and   
  
glanced upwards, into the face of Buffy.   
  
For her part, Buffy was standing pretty close to the edge of the roof, a second   
  
fire axe in hand. "Back off, Harmony. You're no match for me and mine."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Harmony called out. But it was starting to be obvious that her ragtag   
  
army of sailor-vampires wasn't making significant progress on the house, and   
  
already at least a third of them had been dusted. "Come down here and fight me,   
  
Buffy!"  
  
"Fine." Buffy smirked, and without warning, she jumped down the two stories,   
  
landing in the grass just past the back porch. She looked up at harmony from the   
  
cat-like stance she'd landed in, waving the fire axe about with one hand. "Bring   
  
it."  
  
A swishing sound interrupted Harmony's reaction, and Buffy turned to see Dawn   
  
leaning out a window with the crossbow, and another vamp turning to dust just   
  
behind Harmony. "Nice shot, Dawnie." Willow commented.  
  
"Nope, I was aiming for Harmony." Dawn replied, before ducking back inside the   
  
upstairs window.  
  
Buffy smirked at Harmony. "Nobody's perfect. But at least those of us inside the   
  
house are human. Or still human, I should say." She stared at the thing that   
  
once was Cordelia's dumb blonde Fashion Police sidekick, Harmony Kendall. "I bet   
  
you'd give just about anything to be able to see yourself in a mirror right now.   
  
You look hideous." Although, the fact that Harmony was in vamp-face was probably   
  
a large part of that....  
  
Harmony smiled. "I've gotten in touch with the inner me. And I like her."  
  
"I hope you're happy together." Buffy said, sarcastically, as she jumped up onto   
  
the porch and ducked in the doorway. "What's the next plan, Harmony? Are you   
  
going to try to vamp the Ninja Turtles? Or perhaps the Muppets?"  
  
Harmony scowled. "Shut up, Slayer!" Just then, a fire axe shattered the window   
  
over the kitchen sink.  
  
"I'm surprised that took this long." Mac commented. "All the living room windows   
  
are already broken."  
  
A loud crash came from upstairs, followed by the sound of spraying water.   
  
"Dawnie! What's that?" Buffy yelled, already headed for the stairs.  
  
However, it was Commander Rabb that answered. "They broke down part of the   
  
bathroom wall, and they hit the shower pipes."  
  
"Damn!" Buffy turned to Will and Mac. "I'd better go help Harm upstairs."  
  
As Buffy left, a half-dozen sailor-vamps approached the doorway once again, and   
  
Willow and Mac took turns fighting them in the doorway. The sailor seemed to   
  
have lost their fear of Mac. Then again, perhaps they were just getting   
  
desperate, Mac thought.  
  
Then she saw their new coach. "Lauren." She scowled. Willow nodded in   
  
recognition - this was the evil Lieutenant Singer. Mac had explained who she was   
  
- the office malcontent, who was willing to sacrifice other people's careers to   
  
advance her own. Apparently, now, she was willing to sacrifice lives, rather   
  
than just careers.  
  
Strangely enough, though, those six were the last. A dozen or two must have   
  
already fled, because once those had been defeated, Harmony and Singer ran for   
  
the Viper, and peeled out of the driveway, speeding down the streets of   
  
Sunnydale as fast as the sports car's supercharged engine could accelerate. The   
  
work truck, chainsaws, crowbars, axes and ladders their gang had brought were   
  
left behind.  
  
Buffy looked around, surveying the damage. "This is going to be costly."  
  
"Maybe not." Willow replied. "After all, Xander's a carpenter now. I'm sure he'd   
  
do some of the repairs for you, for free."  
  
"It's still going to be a lot. There's damage all over the house. And I'm pretty   
  
sure the roof leaks in at least a dozen places now." She checked the clock.   
  
"We'd all better try to get back to bed. Will, would you mind keeping watch   
  
until sunrise?"  
  
"No problem."  
  
Harmony's Reprisal  
  
Chapter Eight: The Navy Blues  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 0715 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale, CA  
  
----  
  
Dawn pressed down on the little lever on the toaster, and turned to Mac. "How   
  
long?"  
  
"Depends on how dark you've got it set. Toasters aren't all that precise." Mac   
  
replied. She poked at the bowl of cereal in front of her. She wasn't really all   
  
that hungry; she was trying to figure out how to tell the Admiral what she and   
  
Harm had discovered overnight.  
  
"Morning." Willow grumbled, walking in looking rather disheveled in her sweats,   
  
which had doubled as both pajamas and combat gear during the night. She went   
  
straight for a package of frozen waffles, and proceeded to dump two on a plate   
  
and shove them in the microwave.  
  
"Morning, Willow." Mac smiled. "You don't mind if I use the phone?"  
  
"No, go ahead." Willow grabbed the cordless, and tossed it in Mac's general   
  
direction. Of course, Mac caught it neatly, and dialed up JAG Headquarters in   
  
Virginia.  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 1016 Hours  
  
JAG HQ  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
----  
  
"JAG ops, Lieutenant Sims speaking..."  
  
"Hiyas Harriet, it's Mac. Is the boss in?"  
  
"Sure is, Colonel. How's the Reprisal investigation?"  
  
"Finished. Found out what happened to the sailors, and Singer. But you'll never   
  
believe me on the phone. I'll tell you when I see you."  
  
"Sure thing, ma'am. Please hold." Just Harriet's luck, Admiral A.J. Chegwidden   
  
happened to be walking by. "Admiral, Colonel Mackenzie's on the phone for you.   
  
Line four."  
  
"I'll take it in my office." He vaguely waved his coffee cup in that direction.   
  
Mac waited impatiently, and after a moment, he came on the line. "Good morning,   
  
Colonel."  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 0717 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale, CA  
  
----  
  
"Morning, Admiral." That got her a raised-eyebrow look from both Willow and   
  
Dawn, just as the toaster popped up and the microwave beeped. "I was calling   
  
about the Reprisal investigation."  
  
"Oh, right. How's that going?"  
  
"We found out what happened to the missing sailors, sir. And Lieutenant Singer.   
  
None of them will be coming back, sir."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, sir."  
  
"Try me."  
  
"Vampires, sir. They were all killed by vampires." At his derisive snort, she   
  
replied, "I know, it sounds implausible, sir, but I have it on good authority   
  
that Sunnydale is built on some sort of portal from Hell, and all sorts of   
  
things happen here. Harm has even managed some personal contacts with a divinely   
  
empowered vampire slayer." That earned her naughty grins from Dawn and Willow,   
  
by now halfway through their toast and waffles.  
  
"Singer too?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Singer has apparently become something of a sidekick to a   
  
vampire named Harmony Kendall, who is a sworn enemy of the vampire slayer. They,   
  
along with most of the missing sailors, attacked us at her house last night."  
  
"I thought you said they'd been killed."  
  
"Vampires can apparently turn their victims into vampires under certain   
  
conditions, sir. In this case, this Harmony was trying to use them as her own   
  
private army, in order to kill the vampire slayer. It didn't work."  
  
"I expect a full report when you get back. And play it safe, Colonel. I don't   
  
want to lose you and Harm as well."  
  
"Yes, sir. We'll get out of town before sunset, then. Can you arrange us   
  
transport?"  
  
"I'll get Tiner right on it. Call us back in an hour."  
  
"Will do, sir." She punched the disconnect button on the cordless. "That was   
  
easier than I thought."  
  
Harm smirked from the doorway behind her. "Not if I know the Admiral. He'll get   
  
us back in his office and be asking us 'What the hell is going on?' and not in   
  
the most calm tone of voice, either."  
  
Mac shrugged. "Well, he is a former Seal."  
  
Willow looked at her questioningly. "Yet he doesn't believe in vampires?"  
  
Mac looked confused, until Buffy filled her in - having just entered the room in   
  
her white shirt and plaid pajama pants. "Selkies. Shapeshifting seals that can   
  
become human."  
  
Mac grinned. "Not like that. He was a Navy Seal. Like in the movie. Special   
  
forces."  
  
"Oh." Willow commented. "Sorry, living on the Hellmouth, you learn to take   
  
things literally, even when they sound completely implausible."  
  
Harm laughed. "Quite often, I could say the same for the United States Navy." He   
  
leaned over and kissed Buffy.  
  
"Mmm..." She grabbed him by the hand, and Dawn rolled her eyes. "Let's forget   
  
breakfast..." she whispered, as she dragged Harm out of the room.  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 1120 Hours  
  
JAG HQ  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
----  
  
"JAG Ops, Lieutenant Sims speaking."  
  
"Hi again, Harriet, it's Mac. The Admiral told me to call back..."  
  
"Oh, right." Harriet turned away from the phone. "Tiner!"  
  
The Admiral's gatekeeper, Petty Officer Jason Tiner, came running from the   
  
coffee room. "Yes, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Colonel Mackenzie's on the phone. Did you get those travel plans for her and   
  
Commander Rabb?"  
  
"Yeah." He pulled a note out of his pocket. "They're booked on a commercial   
  
flight from Sunnydale to D.C., leaving there at sixteen-twenty this afternoon.   
  
Tickets at will call under her name."  
  
Harriet put the phone back up to her face. "Still there, ma'am?"  
  
"Yes, go ahead."  
  
"You've got a flight out at four-twenty local time this afternoon. The tickets   
  
are at the airport will-call counter under your name. We'll have a driver meet   
  
you at the D.C. airport and bring you here."  
  
"Good. Anything else?"  
  
"Yeah... what did you tell the Admiral earlier? He's got Bud doing some research   
  
on the 'Net..."  
  
"I'll tell you when I see you. Later, Harriet."  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 0830 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale, CA  
  
----  
  
"That your office again?" Will asked.  
  
"Yeah. Just making the arrangements to get out of town before nightfall. Not   
  
that I'm not enjoying Sunnydale..."  
  
"But you'd rather make it out alive." Willow finished for her. "I would too...   
  
if I hadn't grown up here, and been fighting the forces of darkness since I was   
  
fifteen."  
  
"I hoped you'd understand." Mac smiled. "I just hope it's not too hard on your   
  
friend. Harm's kind of the love-'em-and-leave-'em-behind type. Not that he   
  
doesn't believe in long term relationships, just that the job requires a lot of   
  
travelling..."  
  
"And you haven't told him you love him."  
  
"That too. I don't know when it happened. I used to pick on him for being   
  
obsessed with airplanes and finding his father - he was shot down in Vietnam.   
  
But once he found out what happened to his father, and I realized you can take   
  
the fighter pilot off the carrier but you can't take the carrier out of the   
  
fighter pilot, well, we get along pretty well." She sipped her tea. "Actually,   
  
it's pretty nice, seeing the look on his face when we get assigned to a case on   
  
a carrier. Even this case, his eyes just lit all up, even with the carrier in   
  
port. It's like he's got jet fuel in his blood."  
  
Willow nodded. "Buffy's like that. She's grown up being a vampire slayer, and   
  
she's always had this thing for warrior types. She's been with a couple tame   
  
vampires, a commando, well, you get the picture. The fact that she's fallen for   
  
Harm doesn't surprise me in the least." She sipped her own tea, and continued,   
  
"It'll be tough on her, though, it always is. They always end up leaving town,   
  
and she always thinks they left because of her."  
  
"Well, at least in this case, it's because of his job. Should be some comfort.   
  
And Harm's usually the type to keep his options open, in case he ends up back in   
  
town in a year or two."  
  
"A girl in every port?"  
  
"Not quite, but something like that." Mac finished her tea. "Well, I'd better go   
  
let the Captain of the Reprisal know what happened to his men. Is there a shower   
  
I can use?"  
  
"You'll have to use the one in my room. The hall bathroom is being fixed."   
  
Willow pointed up at the pounding sound, where Xander was installing a temporary   
  
wall of plywood. He'd already told Willow he wouldn't have time to repair it   
  
properly until this weekend - and that they'd have to postpone the Museum of   
  
Tolerance trip. Will had agreed - she probably would have suggested that anyway,   
  
as they'd need to cheer Buffy up over the weekend, and the Museum wasn't exactly   
  
that sort of activity.  
  
"Thank you." Mac grabbed a pen, and scrawled out an email address on a sheet of   
  
paper from her notebook. "Here's my email address. I'll get yours when you email   
  
me something."  
  
"Works for me." Willow tacked the slip of paper up on the front of the fridge,   
  
and headed upstairs to help Xander.  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 1030 Hours  
  
Bridge, U.S.S. Reprisal  
  
Pier 13  
  
Sunnydale Harbor  
  
----  
  
"What are you trying not to tell me, Colonel Mackenzie?"  
  
"Sir, that's classified. But what I can tell you is that they're not coming   
  
back, and there is a continuing danger in town. You're advised not to allow   
  
anyone on or off the ship during nighttime hours."  
  
"What about cutting the visit short and leaving town early?"  
  
"That's up to you, sir, but as long as the ship is locked down at night, you   
  
should have no further disappearances or other problems."  
  
"I imagine I'll never see the full report on this incident, will I?"  
  
"No, sir. I suspect Admiral Chegwidden will be sending you a censored copy in a   
  
few days, sir."  
  
"Well, as long as someone gets the full story."  
  
"The locals are well equipped to handle this particular problem. I'm sure it   
  
won't be any more trouble, as long as you follow those recommendations, sir."   
  
She hoped he didn't notice that she had not specifically referred to the local   
  
authorities.  
  
"Fine. Dismissed, Colonel." As she started to walk away, the Captain asked, "By   
  
the way, what happened to your partner?"  
  
"He's taking care of another loose end from our investigation. We're leaving   
  
this afternoon, sir." She handed him her card. "If you feel the need to follow   
  
up, you can call me at the Washington office."  
  
"I just might do that, Marine. Dismissed."  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 1420 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale, CA  
  
----  
  
"What do you mean, you're leaving? So soon?" Dawn pouted.  
  
"We've got to get back to Washington." Colonel Mackenzie explained. "We're   
  
scheduled for a flight out in two hours."  
  
"But... what about Buffy?" she squeaked.  
  
Willow cringed. Dawn had known. "She's an adult, and Harm's upstairs telling her   
  
all about it. I'm sure she'll be fine."  
  
"Like with Riley?"  
  
"I'm sure she'll be fine in a few days, Dawnie. She had to know Harm wasn't   
  
going to be in town long."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"Why don't you go set up the chessboard in the kitchen, Dawnie. I'm going to see   
  
them out, and then I'll play you."  
  
"Okay." Dawn bubbled, and headed off to the kitchen.  
  
"I'm sorry you have to leave so soon..."  
  
Mac waved her off. "Don't worry. We'll still be pen pals. And you can keep tabs   
  
on Singer for us."  
  
"I'll make sure to get you a jar of dust when we catch up with her."  
  
"Good. Harm!" She yelled up the stairs.  
  
"Coming, Mac!" he burst out of Buffy's room, in his dress whites, sea bag over   
  
one shoulder. "Time to go already?"  
  
"Yeah, we've got an hour and fifty-seven minutes before our flight leaves."  
  
"We'd better get going, then." He ducked inside the bedroom door to kiss Buffy   
  
goodbye, and then bounded down the stairs. Just as they were leaving, Willow   
  
caught the door behind them. "Be safe, and keep in touch."  
  
"We will." Mac confirmed, tossing Harm the car keys. "Let's go, flyboy."  
  
Willow turned, and headed into the kitchen. Dawn promtly plunked down one of her   
  
white knights in front of her untouched row of pawns. "Your move, Willow."  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 1650 Hours  
  
An airplane somewhere over central California  
  
----  
  
"Harm, why do you always do that?"  
  
He looked up from his 'Aviation Week' magazine. "What do you mean?"  
  
"You are such the ladies' man. You don't even know that you broke that girl's   
  
heart."  
  
"She knew all along we'd have to leave when it was all over."  
  
"Yes... but you didn't have to romance her while we were there. And you do this   
  
all the time."  
  
"Maybe I'm not ready for a long-term commitment. And besides, with our job? Who   
  
would have me, other than you?"  
  
Mac blushed, just a little. "Good point." She shrugged. "At least we've got   
  
quite the story for the Admiral and Bud and Harriet."  
  
----  
  
Thursday, 1930 Hours  
  
1630 Revello Drive  
  
Sunnydale, CA  
  
----  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
Buffy looked up, here eyes puffy from a few hours' worth of tears. "What?"  
  
"You knew all along he'd have to leave when they got to the bottom of this."   
  
Willow stated. "Don't feel too sorry for yourself. He didn't leave because of   
  
you. He left because he had to leave."  
  
"I guess. But why do I fall for these guys?"  
  
"They're warriors, and so are you. It's a common bond. Think about it."  
  
"You're right." She reached for a slice of leftover pizza. "Still, warn me next   
  
time, okay?" Buffy's voice was a little ragged from the sobbing, but she was   
  
recovering pretty quickly.  
  
Willow nodded, taking another bite of her tuna sandwich, as Dawn slipped her   
  
favorite DVD into the player. Buffy rolled her eyes... "Not that movie again!"  
  
Dawn turned, offended. "If you'd just crack a book sometime, you'd realize why I   
  
like Harry Potter so much." She hit PLAY and bounced over to the couch.  
  
Xander smiled. "Have to admit, she's cute when she's going all gooey-eyed over   
  
Harry Potter."  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Yeah, you are, Dawnie." Willow offered.  
  
"I meant, I'm not going gooey-eyed over him!"  
  
"Right." Buffy said, in her most laced-with-sarcasm voice. "I think I'll   
  
just..." She yawned. "Sit here and take a nap."  
  
Willow looked at her knowingly. "Didn't get much sleep last night, did you?"  
  
Dawn looked at Buffy, slightly offended, as Buffy snored just as her movie   
  
started. "She's going to snore right through Dumbledore!"  
  
Willow shook her head, grabbing Buffy's feet. "No, she isn't. Xander, her   
  
shoulders. Let's take her up to her room, so Dawnie can watch her movie in   
  
peace."  
  
The End.... 


End file.
